Sunday, March 17, 2013

The Morning Comes...

The darkness blots beneath its reach
Earth’s swell of pasture, hill and beach
The field that bears each season-sweep
Fades out into ebony deep
The pallid moon, a soundless wraith
Above charcoal landscapes of faith

And though the darkness steals our sight
Though faith alone must be our light
We know, in spite of what we see
No night is for eternity
And just beyond this onyx scope
Glimmers the morning-tide of hope

Even the void of darkest dark
Is pierced by nothing but a spark
And by and by the blackest hour
Softens beneath a keener power
Of mercy whispers; night succumbs
To heaven’s rule; the morning comes

© Janet Martin

The morning comes
No night remains
The Light of faith
Succors, sustains
And by and by
Shalom, shalom
We lift our eyes
The morning comes…

 They were also to stand every morning to thank and praise the LORD. They were to do the same in the evening 1 Chron. 23:30

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