At daybreak as the hour grows late
Persistent finger of the dawn
Recounts my duties that await,
My bread to earn, my sweat to pawn.
I turn my head to face the wall
My warm bed tempting me to stay
And silently curse the lark’s call,
“Awake! Arise! Welcome the day!”
Forcing my feet to the cold floor,
I fumble with my wayward robe
And as done countless time before,
I stumble through my dark abode.
Then throwing back the drapes I gaze
As night greets day in joyful tryst.
The vault of Heaven set ablaze
In crimson, gold, and amethyst.
Entranced by such an awesome sight,
Forgotten is my dull disdain.
My mundane cares have taken flight
Like the skylark that called my name.
Let each new day with praise begin!
Accept the priceless crystal cup
And pour the sweet elixir in,
Give thanks to God and drink it up.
By Cathy Stroud