And as grass’s fresh dew turns to glass with the radiant sun,
I hear Him whisper deep into my soul this imperative warning:
"Yesterday is history, tomorrow - a mystery, and today is not done."
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The moon sings serene silence into the glow of morning; And as grass’s fresh dew turns to glass with the radiant sun, I hear Him whisper deep into my soul this imperative warning: "Yesterday is history, tomorrow - a mystery, and today is not done." Author notesOriginal Pictures: http://allpoetry.com/poem/1882188 In a listA contest entry
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