If I take the wings of the morning…” –Psalm 139:9
“Mornings are…” (from a journaling prompt)…
full of surprises
Mornings are when
the sky turns…
oh, who knows?
fiery and fuchsia, sometimes all at once,
sometimes scintillating silver first,
sometimes angry storm-cloud, blue-black scary,
sometimes all peachy and pink and lavender-tinged…
with one peak moment when it all crescendos in the sky,
and if you aren’t there, you miss the show.
the starting point of happenings,
the boat launch,
the launching pad for rocket takeoff,
the warm-up place for the inner Maserati,
the pre-plan warroom for the surprise battles that might pop up later in the day.
And if you aren’t there, you miss the boat.
when the roaring outside the window is there for blowing fog clouds away,
clearing the mind, freeing the soul, opening the heart,
and if you also push open the window
to stand and feel the rush-by, and breathe it in,
in one quick moment
when you meet the dawn and God,
when thanks are best born,
then borne out.
When praises prompt promise of the Presence of His Spirit,
in the coming light, till coming night.
the optimum time for setting your focus,
when blurs become clarity,
sometimes lights up like the eastern sky.
breakfasts with my best Friend,
feasts not so much on food as wonder,
on answers to my questions,
or on simply sitting silent at His feet.
Confession: I used to be a nightowl.
Now I’m a bird that sings at daybreak.
Like the wrens and the warblers,
I slip out early to perch on the porch and hear
(once the weather warms…)
I still have my moments of dark-time hooting,
but it’s on early-to-bed that early rise thrives;
so I stifle my hoots and substitute
deep breathing, sleep breathing,
muscles melting into mattress.
So, warmed with sleep wrapped in flannel,
I rise and greet the skies
and the Author thereof,
Won’t you join me (“on the wings of the morning”)?