Dawn is awash with promise and mystery.
Few little children to break the silence—
first dibs on everything.
I read in peace without continual chattering.
At first light, I am compelled to fill my moments with meaning—
born anew
—forgiven from yesterday’s faults by my Father.
I feel the mercy;
I see the Dawn.
The sun has only thought about rising.Our house is filled with sleeping people I love.I stretch long, slip out from under the covers, andfloatsock-footed, over the hardwoods to muffle the c...
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What are mirrors but things made of glass, Objects that will never answer our questions no matter how much we ask? And we do ask, day after day, Wanting and needing for worldly things g...
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