When morn is gently breaking over aspen, silver-frothed
And hills are swaddled in soft, waking purple, whisper-clothed
Then Time feels young, akin to ancient, virgin curves of
skin
where its sad, settled endings breathe Mercy’s betrothed ‘Begin’
When Innocence has shaken youth’s first gladness from our
eyes
And Time its course has taken where both Truth and madness
cries
Still, still, the wonder of a love that never can grow old
Turns midnight skies to morning and its ebony to gold
When childhood is forsaken and our robe of flesh, care-worn
Still, past yon frosted bracken, God unveils a virgin morn
Off-spring of Hope such as graced earth in Bethlehem’s
hooray
Mankind bears witness to the birth of more than breaking day
© Janet Martin
We are inundated with fearsome 'breaking news' daily!
But the Master of the Morn,
The Christ-child, earth-born
Reigns
In Heaven
and on earth,
Supreme
In Heaven
and on earth,
Supreme
To Him, the Kingdom,
The power and glory,
Forever and ever,
Amen.
This is very beautiful, Janet...and so meaningful. Thanks so much for sharing!
ReplyDeleteThank-you Linda!
Deletemay the whole world sees the beauty of peace and nature and harms none.
ReplyDeleteoh yes! thank-you Vandana!
Delete