My, what a sky this morning.
I run between Cheerios and unmade beds
just to catch it.
The clouds hang heavy,
so I open the lens way up,
losing depth of field,
and shut so slow
the horizon blurs.
And isn't it this way in life also?
I open way up
and lose perspective.
The horizon blurs
for all my
wavering.
Thanks
for this still morning
the gravel rolling beneath my feet
the air that opens my lungs
the whine from the west
the whir up east
his truck sliding into gear,
heading up into the sky
turned gray.
Oh, the heaven and heaven of heavens cannot contain You!
No comments:
Post a Comment