morning has broken
a traditional song
lyrics by eleanor farjeon
(made popular by cat stevens)
morning has broken,
like the first morning
blackbird has spoken,
like the first bird
praise for the singing,
praise for the morning
praise for the springing
fresh from the world
sweet the rain's new fall,
sunlit from heaven
like the first dewfall,
on the first grass
praise for the sweetness
of the wet garden
sprung in completeness
where our feet pass
mine is the sunlight,
mine is the morning
born of the one light,
eden saw play
praise with elation,
praise every morning
of the new day.
every morning ...
~ when it isn't snowing ~
i go to the roof top
with every stitch of
all my every bit of clothes on..
it is about 5 am..
still mostly dark..
a hint of what's to come
strewn across the eastern sky..
baby girl pink streamers,
mauve grey-bleu strips of any clouds
left over from the night's play..
stillness at first..
just the moon whisper and the morning star peep..
in the beginning was the word
it arrives with one lone rooster call..
long interval of pause, pause, pause..
the herald beckoning the day..
without even registering..
somehow two or three or more roosters crow..
the mourning doves start to flutter,
then the goat bells ring a ling
ting ting ting ting
like a lama's damaru..
more horns and cymbals bust out..
the ravens, the seabirds, the wee tweeters ..
down under deep bowels of water pumps burbling-
yesterday's laundry thweeps crisp in the early aire..
the sky begins to circumnambulate
every colour on its daybreak palette..
splashing, dipping, circling, sloshing..
all the while the sea reflecting a clear mirror
for the yawning, sleepy-eyed heaven..
at first just a sliver, a slice, a slush of the ruby to come..
let there be light
slowly ascending the throne each cloud has prepared..
more.. now.. of the sphere arrives on the scene..
rising in red elegance, ennobling the trailing robes..
aha! i am that i am..
the sovereign sun declares..
and begin my morning prayers.
it is like that