MORNING IS BREAKING
Morning is breaking and I’m up,
Working out my salvation….
Perhaps it’s time to say that’s enough,
Expressing my derivation.
Light appears by spinning of Earth,
Those who are on it sit still…
Locked to the surface most are from birth
Enlightened by a loving God’s will.
Windows through which we see coming dawn
Closed against morning chill…
Open wide as warm air comes on
List’ning to birdsong trill.
I have to rest–breathing is poor,
I’ll know as I try to walk back…
This foot wound hurts and morning is still,
But how we poets yack!