Hallelujah Chorus

I get up to write a poem,
get lost, befuddled.

Not the way to start the day:
sleepy, disgruntled.

Sun just beginning to rise
gives tints to morning.

First robins to awake,
give chirps of warning.

Then, finally, in oaks and maples
they start their songs.

The very air is blessed.
Sweet sound surrounds.