THE WORLD AWAKENS

The trees, once dark, in sunlight stand,
No whispers soft, but wind's command.

The world awakens, full of might,
No lullaby, but morning's light.

But wait, a shift, a change of scene,
A canvas painted, cool and green.

The moon ascends, a silver glow,
On fields of sleep where shadows grow.

The birds  chirp, a gentle song,
As Twilight paints the world all wrong.

Is it day or night? A twisted rhyme,
The poem shifts a second time.

Lost in the space between the lines,
Where twilight's beauty intertwines.