You never miss a chance
To show off Your majesty
While most of us sleep.
Daily You ship out a
A morning of grace
A new promise
A fresh start.
The morning sky is stained
A deep pink
With tinges of a heady orange,
A new day being birthed.
As the minutes pass quickly
The LORD quietly rinses the clouds
Of their crimson hue
Leaving behind grey-white wisps and whales
Of cloud matter,
Like clean linen hanging up to dry
In preparation for tomorrow’s spectacle-
Behold the love letter in the early sky
Signed, in Person,
By the God of the Sunrise
Have you commanded the morning since your days began,
and caused the dawn to know its place,
that it might take hold of the skirts of the earth,
and the wicked be shaken out of it?