Dawn calls us through a window (freed from ivy vines)
Through the labor of my best friend with her heart, body and mind.
God gives us each talents and watches what we do.
We each have our agency to choose what we want to.
The Son's gold touches the sky. The clouds catch His first rays.
I rose up slow and careful and stretched my pain away.
I gave my thanks to Heaven, to live just one more day--
rose and dressed and slipped away, as my mate slept on today.
I went out our front door and drove to a special place
Above the wake-up noise of each soul's fleeting race.
I watch the Son's miracles caress each cloud on high,
And gaze in awe-struck wonder, of this earth, clouds and sky.
From deer to bunny rabbits, to the birds that praise each dawn,
Each miracle reflects God's eternal song.
Now I sit again, in silence as my mobile turns before my face,
Reminding us of each precious goal; each family's special in time & space.
Bob wrote this on his birthday–July 20. Here it is, almost September, and I’m supposed to post a poem every Monday. Well, that hasn’t happened this summer. We’ve really been on the run and have not been home-based. But I suspect there aren’t many of you who race to your computer on Monday morning to catch the newest post, do you? If I lived for comments, I’d be dead! So that’s a scolding for both of us.
