Lord, God, the sun rose
this morning, strong
and bright, beating back
the chill that had hijacked spring.
Today the sun did not roll
over and curl up under
a blanket of fog,
did not ask for two more
minutes, Mom, but instead leapt
from bed and bounded down
the stairs, as if it were
Christmas morning.
And with the sun, the birds,
Your angels, Lord, circling, soaring,
loving the light and the dance
among the thermal currents.
And with the sun, the alligators,
Your silent sentinels, eyes half-shut
but always watching as they bask
in Your soul-filled charging station.
And with the sun, me,
taking note, smiling, gasping,
sharing the wonder that is You
with anyone who might listen.
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