The Morning Sun

It rises slowly above the trees.  As if it gently seeks to kiss the sky.

If only I rose so kindly from my nightly slumber.  Quiet yes, but kindly takes time.

(And coffee)

It is a process, isn’t it – this waking of body and soul.  Gentle or not, it calls us to rise and meet the moment.   Open eyes and heart to the wonder of that which is new.

With yawn and stretch, I gather my bearings and drink in the breath of mercies made new.  The sandman’s sleep falls slowly away. 

Soul uncovered bathed in Light.

Great is His faithfulness.

 

Learning to write freely – Joining in with:

8 thoughts on “The Morning Sun

  1. Kathleen Basi

    That is beautiful. You’ve encapsulated what I love about mornings. Still, I don’t always know that I’m not kindly until I’ve been up a while by myself, and the kids wake up and the noise begins…

    Reply

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