" The growing day"

 The growing day #? √

From time of dark, before the light 

Until that time day triumphs night

I sit within my woods and watch

The glory grow in sylvan notch

I take the time to watch in wonder

Daylight build the world asunder

The signs of day are slowly coming

As subtle as a thrush's thrumming

No doubt can be, you'll watch too long

For lovely as a thrush's song

As first momentous glimpse of light

That tolls the end of blackest night

With vaguest glance, the world is etched

No depth, no tint, just briefly sketched

And, then, the slightest silver slips

Upon the world to touch the tips

And sharpened edges come to fore

But still in gray from star to core

So slowly, all along the depth

The thief along the border crept

To steal away night's deepest black

He enters through a narrow crack

Behold, for now, the day will start

And coal and char will now depart

It is beginning of events

That lead to wondrous day, immense

I tremble, now, as night relents

But, sun has yet to cross the fence

Yet, now the world begins to form

In shades of gray, no colors warm

Still, whether it is spring or fall

No way the eye can tell at all

There’s still no color to the leaves

As, night to day, does slowly ease

And, then, a hint, the softest brush

The barest tint comes with a rush

Now lanes of light pass through the trees

Untouched, it taps me on the knees

As welcome as a morning breeze

True morning's here, at last, to seize

Wow!  I just realized how much of a double entendre this whole poem is.  Unfortunately, it remains dark.  So, I've never reached even the third line.  Just that true morning I would like to see, though I would certainly watch the day grow until full light, if given the chance.   Waiting in the dark is getting on my nerves (annoyed, not freaking out).

This rhoem was actually written while sitting in a sylvan notch.