The loveliness of an unexpected coolness
in the morning air
soothes the skin on a mid-July morning
while the gentle beauty of delicate mist
forming above the bottoms of creeks and rivers
speaks to the soul of those the Giver has gifted
with this quiet dawning.
A pastel gray hovers above the woods and ridges
of northeastern Kansas,
beneath the stars of a moonless sky
while the least hint of an eastern light
etches the edges of night’s softening canopy.
I stand beneath the paper-bark birches
that stretch along the fringe of a gravel driveway,
taking in the subtle coming of this day the Lord has made,
praying for wisdom,
yielding to the grace of gratitude
and trusting that all that I need will be received
in the hour of its needing.