"THE WINGS OF THE MORNING"

“The Wings of the Morning.”

(Psalms 139:9 & Isaiah 40)

Gracefully he arises on the wings of the morning,
Soaring with the sun across the burnished amber sky,
He floats upon the majestic heights of the heavenly unknown,
Lost a midst the unseen wonders and cotton candy clouds,
He glides, a disembodied spirit on the breath of God,
Spirited away to the ecstatic vistas of the azure blue.

Resurrected in the shimmering dawn a mythical Phoenix,
Rocketing forth from the mortuary of broken dreams,
Reaching out from the soot and ash of a smoldering world,
Walls breached, bridges broken, gates burnt, the city in ruins,
Restore, renew, rebuild, redeem, rescue, arising from the twilight,
Comfort rides on the wings of the morning.

Salvation jets o’er the horizon on the wings of the morning,
He cries my name, howling in the wind of transformation,
Whisper to me in the hushed, halting tones a lover to his beloved,
Honey sweet lyrics flow o’er pomegranate lips, dripping from the tongue,
The creative word, alive and vibrant reinvigorates a tortured soul,
He descends with his reward from the infinite reaches of space,
Deliverance arrives on the wings of the morning.

Bob