Blessedness speaks in the morning,
its voice, carried on drops of dew
that dance with the sun’s deep kiss
on the grasses and trees,
as they wait in silent prayer,
ever ready to make confession,
to sing praise to a new born day—
never to be tried again.
Eternity holds life and death in its
twenty-four hour arms and says,
“Jump, jump into this portal of bliss,
your home, sweet home.
Wrap yourself in the blessedness
that speaks in the morning,
for it speaks only to you.”