Echo of Dawn is that exact moment
when the world hasn’t quite woken up—
but something ancient and steady already knows the day has arrived.

It is the echo before the sound.
The pause before the first breath.

The flamingo doesn’t call the dawn.
It is the reason the sun rises.

Still.
A single leg lifted.
The universe, weightless in its beak.

Not asking to be seen.
Not needing to be named.

Just being.

That’s enough.