Morning Whispers

The creak of my spine, like an old wooden floor,

a reminder of nights, of rest and restore.

As sunlight breaks through, I rise with a sigh,

each crack in my back tells the stories gone by.

A soft rustle of sheets, the world shifts awake,

each sound a reminder of the path that I take.

A day's gentle start, with each stretch and pull,

a symphony formed in a house almost full.

In the silence I linger, as shadows retreat,

my body unwinds, finds its own steady beat.

Whispers of morning, so tender and frail,

carry me onward, the new day sets sail.