Morning in Place of Mourning

As long is I'm on the subject of mornings, I will pursue it a bit more. Mornings are the very best time of day for me. I love the stillness, the newness. Creation seems to be garnering its strength for a whole new day. The wind is non existent. The sun isn't yet full. Busy-ness hasn't yet begun. Anticipation hangs in the air. We are at the beginning of a continuim that will end with darkness and bedtime at the end of the day. As I drive into town early in the morning on my way to work, I relish the cleaness, neatness and freshness I see in the people I meet. Hair is combed neatly. Faces shine. Smiles and gentle "hellos" come easily. The scents of cologne, hair products, after shave, soap; it is all distinguishable. I love it. There are other scents that are also vivid in the morning that satisfy so much better in the morning than any other time of day. Coffee, donuts, bread, bacon and eggs. Can you smell them? As I thought about mornings and the specialness they are to me, I remembered that I had written a couple things about mornings in the past and wondered if they were retrievable. I found the following poem on "My Documents". I see that I wrote it in the fall and so it is probably more appropriate to put in this blog later, but I'm afraid I will forget and not retrieve it at all. So, I'm sorry to mix spring with fall but here it is:

Mornings

The beauty of morning, can I adequately extol?
What is it about its innocence that quiets my soul?
Every man, woman, and child a clean face presents
To receive new mercies with the new day’s events.

Seven birds stoically sitting on an electric line
Silhouetted against the morning sky
No alarm clock, but got up just fine
Don’t need man’s help to know how to fly.

Yellow with dryness from summer sun steady
Signaling the farmer that it is ready
Heavy ears of corn hang from motionless stalk
Waiting patiently for relief of harvest talk.

The trucking company still asleep
Ten trucks parked in a row makes up the fleet
Engines still cool from a weekend of rest
Not yet a creature stirring a request.

Downtown displays the American flag
On every electric pole we can brag
The still of the morning belies the nation’s state
As each flag hangs limp, the winds await.

Like all of creation, I love his new mercies each new day. BTW, today is National Day of Prayer. The last two lines of my poem give cause for pause as we consider the state of our nation. It is far from what God wants it to be. On this day we kneel before the Heavenly Father in humilty. Let us mourn the sins of our nations and implore Him for new mercies in the areas of government, media, churches, schools, and family. Perhaps in His grace He will allow us to experience a NEW MORNING for our nation. Oh God, have mercy.