A pink morning blushes in…. bashful glowing… hesitant to wake me…… muted light across snow painted street…… reticent pink…… the glory’s wasted.

But still I face, not each day….. but each quarter of an hour….. a battle incessant……I know my tough skin shall be pared away….. humility apple… glistening in new beauty……. by faith………..

And so….. as this hour ages…. and assures the arrival of the next….. I wonder what will become of this day…… what new circumcision of my heart to take place…… and daily things will get done….. and noon will come as did the dawn….. day break, the high tide of hours, the eclipse of dusk….. may i just ride them as they come…… break….. tide….. eclipse….. three new words for how to live……. today…………….

Advertisements