The Rising Sun

Oh, that I might one day again see
The Sun rise over the eastern plain,
And paint with light Earth's velvet skies
In hues of rose, gold, and violet;

To feel it's warmth in the midst of a field, glistening with dew,
Hearing not a sound of humanity – but of warrens, nests, and thickets,
Teaming with life and matters beyond the cares of my own;

And what cares should overtake me on a day such as this?

Should my heart be burdened and weighed down when such rapturous delights present themselves in the rawness of dawn?

Be still my soul and wait!

For a time will come again when the Lord's favor has kissed your brow,
And joy will have anointed your face with tears.
And you shall stand in the midst of that field glistening with the morning dew,
Bearing witness with all creation to the rising of a new day.

And that day shall be beautiful indeed.