The Dawn Of Hope
I love the dawn – the cawing grows, the streaks of eastern light,
The pinkish clouds, the shunting train, the honking geese in flight,
The mourning dove, the chickadees, the skittish white-tailed deer
Displaced by recent rising floods which feeds on gardens here.As river crests today, then ebbs back to its normal banks,
And farmers start to sow their crops – no sewer backup (thanks!) –
New hopes arise – the summer's here, we feel it's warming rays,
And sense in clouds of pink today we'll see some better days.The pink spreads west and undersides of clouds new hope inspires;
The rising sun fulfills that hope and strengthens our desires;
There is a balance-point each day when pink from dawning light
Spreads farthest west with greatest hope then fades as sun grows bright.Such is the time of day which speaks of what I do in life –
That balance-point between the dark with hopelessness and strife
And brighter times when other folks take up their daily tasks,
Through me the streaks of dawning-hope reply to those who pass.It is not something that I do, but something done through me;
I walk around, encounter folks, and somehow they can see
That life for them has one more day, pink spreads from east to west,
Then they rise up, take up their tools, and strive to live their best.For that I give You thanks, O Lord, for hope in dawning light;
A hope that feeds my soul each day before the day grows bright;
I may not be the one who shines the brightest on the block,
But I give thanks that You give hope to those near me now stopped.navigation