His eye is on the sparrow

The cool quiet of morning is broken by the rooster’s crowing

dark has yielded to the rising light of another day

my slumber is interrupted by the sound of sheep and the chirp of birds

No alarm clock needed here in my mountain lair

the sounds of day turn off my night and renewed, I come to consciousness.

I am thankful that sleep has worked its magic in my body and mind;

glad to be alive and well, happy to see life as a glass half full or more.

When day begins the line is drawn, yesterday is a memory, stored

today I bring my strength and energy, my wits and will to serve again

to serve is righteous, holy and pure. to give is the better way

(written months ago, and just published, kind of rough draft, sorry)