INTO THE LIGHT

The mercies of the Lord that we are not consumed:
because his commiserations have not failed.
They are new every morning, great is thy faithfulness.

~Lamentations 3: 22-23, Douay-Rheims

Fern

Mornings find my hands fold in prayer
of gratitude for the night that was over;
of hope for the coming day
uncertain in its dawning
while the night held its sway.
Tucked in the shadows of a blessed sleep
my body laid still,
my soul walked the valleys
between life and death.
Oh how fragile,
this, our human breath
that is sustained or snuffed
at the Giver’s behest.
Therefore my eyes soak in
the wonders of a new morn
ever renewed with the mercies
of the Maker, the Good Lord
and my feet seek the joyful path
that leads back to His bosom.

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11 comments

  1. Brilliant uplifting poem, Imelda. Every day is a new day with new opportunities, and we all should be lucky to see the morning “eyes soak in the wonders of a new morn”. My favourite phrase of the poem 🙂 ❤

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