My feet are bare, my toes are curled
I stand upon the wet winter morning grass
My arms are down, my nose is up
The winter morning wind is on my face
But as I stand there, what is to catch my eye?
It is, indeed, the winter morning sky
How I love it, the way the sky glistens beyond the treetops
The rainbow of orange, pink, then purple
This show of colors, it brings the cardinal and redbreasts out their nests to sing
And yes, we do have them in the winter
This display of wonder
How it makes me feel so warm yet so cool
This display of beauty
How it makes me feel at home yet so far away
This display of greatness
That paints the whole sky from horizon to horizon
This display of colors
How they dance across the sky from cloud to cloud
It's beautiful, isn't it?
How He starts every winter morning with His artwork
His brush strokes are perfect
He makes sure every colored cloud is in its place
He truly is a genius
To think He does this every morning, different every time
To think
It's so beautiful and complex, so elegant
To think
He does it on purpose, just for us
To think
Every winter morning, He sits down, and paints the winter morning sky
#12_2/25/2012
If you're ever outside at daybreak in the winter, you know what I'm talking about. If not here's what you're missing.
