Question

write me a free verse poem

Answers

GPT-4o mini
In the quiet hours of dawn,
when the world is still awakening,
light unfurls like a tender hand,
gently brushing against the remnants of night.

Shadows whisper secrets to the grass,
each dewdrop a pearl of forgotten dreams,
as the sun spills its golden laughter,
painting the sky in hues of promise,
a canvas for the day to unfold.

Birds rise with the rhythm of hope,
their songs threading through the crisp air,
a symphony of wings and wishes,
lifting the weight of unspoken fears,
carving the silence into melodies of belonging.

And here I stand,
a witness to the miracle of existence,
the ordinary made extraordinary
by the heartbeat of life around me,
each moment a brushstroke,
each breath a story waiting to be told.

Time dances in the spaces between,
a waltz of gratitude and yearning;
the pulse of the universe
echoes in the marrow of my bones,
reminding me, softly,
that I am a part of this infinite tapestry,
woven with threads of joy and pain,
and each fray, each knot,
holds the beauty of being.

So I breathe in the dawn,
a promise stitched with vulnerability,
and carry it forward,
knowing that every day,
like the sun,
is a chance to rise anew.

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