The Dawning

That special time t'wixt dark and dawn

With Eyes Not Yet Open

The soft whisking sound

Of a broom ‘pon the floor

The cooing of Doves

Near the window

The creak and squeak

From floorboards and doors

Conversations carried on

Soft and low

Sunrays piercing the morning skies

Nighttime fleeing to the west

Bed seeming less and less like a bed

And more and more… like a nest

Do the birds and the bees

The animals…the trees

Do they, like me

Feel the joy and the rapture

I think and I pray these feelings today

They’re for all God’s creatures to capture

…Yet I wonder…I wonder…

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