morning brings
frost-sculptures
tinkling underfoot
etching every blade
in silver-cold glass
transformed grass
morning brings
spun-cotton clouds
riding high
over cresting sun
pink-gold and purple
transformed sky
morning brings
hope for this new
and dawning day
scrubbed-clean
and reborn
transformed life
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6 comments:
Erica, Erica. You silence me.
I like your "scrubbed clean" morning. If I could see that, there would be more hope with each new sunrise.
the hope of transformation ... is held up to us each and every day. you bless me in your ability to see this and to speak to this truth! nature speaks powerfully of resurrection and transformation.
really liking the
"pink-gold and purple
transformed sky"
the picture was perfect - which came first
This is an excellent poem; worth reading and re-reading and re-reading. Do keep writing, for God's glory. Your writing has a freshness about it. I especially like the "frost-sculptures/tinkling underfoot" and the "silver-cold glass/transformed grass."
Lovely words and photo....Thank you for sharing both.
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