AT DAWN'S EARLY LIGHT

 In the moment the unfolding begins

my eyes see, even as my heart swells,

the softest, sweetest hue of pink 

one could ever conceive.  

Above it, the most cerulean of blues 

boldly paints the cloudless sky beyond.  

There at horizon’s jet black edge 

rise the silhouetted spires of pine upon pine,

while here at my feet,

steely gray undulations of ocean.

And so, the day’s color guard advances, 

wrapping the world within its ribbons of beauty,

even as it invites all creation to parade its wonder.

Privileged, I bear witness to its birthing, 

so fresh, so soft, still wet the dew.

Whelmed with its grandeur,

I can’t begin to behold, less appreciate,

the staggering meaning and magnitude 

embraced by this one solitarily glorious day, 

only the latest entry in the annals of all time.

Yet here it and I meet. Here we greet.  

It quickens my spirit and satiates my soul.

Oh God of all, here at dawn’s early light

I ask of you but one thing.

Help me take less of your life-infusing love 

for granted today than I did yesterday. . . . 

and still less tomorrow 

than I do today.