In the morning,
When the sun is whispering to the land,
Perhaps those whispers might fall,
On these ears,
Whispers of kingdoms come and gone,
Of battles lost and won,
Whispers of mighty women,
Of noble men,
Whispers of wars,
Of plagues,
Whispers of histories
Of possibilities,
Because after all,
The sun is a star,
And all stars have their secrets,
And stories to share.
Yes