New day

New day strides confidently.
I listen to the sound of its steps.
I listen to the darkness of night fields.
I listen to the sounding knock of minutes.

New day strides confidently.
It waits for sunrise and songs of birds.
New day enters the garden and house.
The day does not ask the permission to do it.
New day has an assured look.

Is it spring? Or… Is it winter?
It has not meaning, has it?
New day knocks at my window.