In the quiet of the morning, before the dawn breaks,
A ritual unfolds in the silence that it takes.
Steam rises, whispering secrets of the night,
Promising solace in its warm, comforting light.
A cup cradled in hands, a fleeting, tender embrace,
As the world outside stirs from its resting place.
Each sip a verse in the day's unspoken psalm,
A balm for the soul, in the calm before the storm.