all is still
the sky is moss gray outside my window
sliced only by barren winter branches
across the street
I am disheartened by a night of
tossing, fretting, somber dreams
the robin in the ponderosa pine
outside my window
chants his morning matins
loud and clear
calls with every feather
and hollow bone in his bird being
'it is time'
my spirit leaps out to him
tears spring behind my eyes
hope catches in my heart
I am ready now to begin this day
Amen
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment