Mornings are a sacred time
For me.
It's the time I'm most vulnerable
Raw and rare.
It’s the time I seek God,
And speak to Him face-to-face.
It's the time when I hold His hand
And He leads me back
To the Garden,
Free to be seen.

You promised
A lifetime of poetry
Just to leave without
A single line

The moon trails behind,
a pale guardian on high
chasing fleeting feet.