Slowly open the drapes to reveal
the heaviness of winter’s breath.
Its powdered-face glued on windows.
Outside, muted deaths of greys and browns
become a shrine for our blues.
Among these solemn colors,
see that there is life here.
Nestled in the perfect winter morning,
is the glory of God’s creation;
from the birds huddling to protect
the song in their hearts to
the white-tailed deer returning home.
Just past the hills, in the thicket of the trees,
the choked branches fight against the cold grip;
barely touching the smoking river beneath them.
With only the fog in the distant,
the river seems to travel to nowhere in particular
bringing life to all its half-awaken creatures.
Pull back the blankets to find me, in bed,
curved body painted grey by the morning light.
Last night dreams floating in chilled air and
the morning’s hallelujah rising up.
Before the dawn gives away,
humility is found in these moments.
The picture taken by me of the Neuse River, Raleigh, NC