AWAKENINGS

The morning wakes in gentleness -
Thin mist between the treetops on the ridges;
The birds begin their anthem to the dawn;
I watch the layers melt and peel,
Light breaking slowly o'er the hill
And shifting grey to tints of verdant summer.

How many times upon the morn
Amid the symphony of dawn
Have I awakened blanketed in wonder?
The Lord is near - His finger moves
To paint the scene with shades of Heav'nly beauty.


So then, my soul begins to stir
To shout with joy, to sing with love
To bow in awe, to wait with faith
And, breathless, see His goodness.


A sacred dawn; a sacred day
Hallowed by sacrifice and ressurection.
Awake! Awake! Break forth in songs
Of gratitude and praise for His redemption!


Hold to the Hand that holds the night,
The day, the sun, the moon - the Light
Reflected by the rays on yon hill rising
That Light will guide, will wash in peace
The heart that seeks His righteousness
...as surely as His Power has come
To gild the dawn with glory.