A Morning of Grace
The sun made its slow,
but sure climb
over the horizon,
breaking through the darkness
with the most beautiful colors
of morning.
All my tears
were wiped away
with soft as cotton white.
My regrets died
under magenta‘s
healing touch.
Fear fled
with the promise
of bright blue
to come.
Peace I haven’t known before
rested on my pillow,
breathing gently
a whisper of light
through my hair
as royal purple seeped through
my eastern window.
Though alone,
I know I woke
in the arms of my First Love.
I always do.
I laid me down there
long ago,
just knowing His arms
are stronger and more capable
than my own.
He can carry me
when I don’t have the strength
to carry myself.
I found it easier
to just let Him carry me
all the time.
Though surrender came to me
like pulling teeth.
Yet, here I am,
fully surrendered.
No,
I don’t always wake up
to a sunny day.
Birdsong doesn’t always
fill my air.
I’m not always bathed in peace
or contentment.
So it takes days like this
to remind me
that “sorrow may come
with the night,
but joy comes in the morning.”
As His timing isn’t like ours,
morning doesn’t always come
in just twenty-four hours.
But come, it does.
And it comes
right on time.
I fall short,
sometimes very short.
And yet,
though often hidden behind clouds
of doubt
or fear,
mercy comes
every morning,
every morning,
every morning,
just as sure as the sun.
Today,
grace
and peace
came along with mercy
as it made its slow,
but sure climb
over the horizon,
breaking through the darkness
with most beautiful colors.
© Joyce Pool
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