Morning Hymn - Psalm 108

I wrote this poem years ago when a friend's mother was dying. I'd read Psalm 108:1-5 that morning, as some of you have read today. (I'm sure a phrase or two of my poem will echo from the psalm, although it doesn't follow it exactly). 

Thinking of my friend and her mom early that morning I wanted to ponder the dawning of a new day, a saint's heavenly birth, and our Father God's glory in it all. Scripture spoke to me in a special way, and I hope it will do the same for you.

MORNING HYMN

by Ferree Hardy

I wake before dawn

and in the dark

 begin the song

of ancient ways

and steadfast praise

With each note

 the darkness fades

A rooster crows,

and spider sews

 one last strand on her

dewdrop doily

Birds arouse

They join in

Mourning dove,

Robin, wren

Singing of You,

the Giver of all

Your goodness freshens

it brings cool hint

 of snow and mint

to salt-stained skin

Red-brimmed eyes

and sadness-fevered

soul

Father of health

and life itself

with love beyond

the stratosphere

and faithfulness that

fills the sky

Your glory orbs

the earth we hear

 And wrapped in shimmering

clouds

it reaches down to

collect the songs

of one weak woman

and birds.