You stand in front of the window,
A shaft of sunlight illuminating every stray, unkempt strand of hair.
Golden threads made more by one of God's rays.

From 92 million miles away, this light traveled
Just to shine through the window and frame you
Deific in the early morning.

I miss these mornings often. Reluctant in bed to move,
But my eyes wide open to see you there.
Louder and brighter than any church bell or stained glass.