It’s always darkest before the dawn
When the stars have all burned out
The moon has sunk low and sun has stubbornly refused to rise
The world is blanketed in the blackest of blacks
And everything is still
Voices are silenced
Breath is held
The world waits
Waits to see if the promise of dawn will be fulfilled
And for one excruciating moment
It seems that it never will
Then a faint glow appears on the horizon
And the shadows slowly recede
The dawn breaks
The world breathes
And life goes on
I like your take on the common saying, the darkest hour… You capture nature waiting with baited breath. Reminds me of the times I’ve woken early, earlier than the birds and experienced what you’ve described. Well done!