Three short lines capture a very small moment: someone wakes up and finds the world still dark. The speaker opens their eyes, expecting daylight perhaps, and gets night instead. Then comes the turn, set apart on its own line: "A new day is here." The day has begun, even though nothing outside looks like it.
What makes the poem work is that gap between what the speaker sees and what they say. The darkness is real, but the speaker chooses to name the moment as a beginning rather than as a leftover piece of night. The dash after "eyes" works like a small breath, and the white space between the stanzas gives the same feeling of a pause before a thought settles.
The mood is quiet and calm, with a hint of hopefulness. The speaker doesn't sound upset about being awake early. Instead, the poem seems to treat that stillness as a gentle, private start to the day, before anything has asked anything of them.