The other morning, I
(In figure, let no lucid eyes eclipse)
Awoke, then crept expectantly outdoors,
Stole a back-row seat to view the sky
And there, precisely where the ridgeline dips,
The curtain rose, and vanished in the shores.
So modest, yet so boldly light unveiled
The gentle contours of the morning’s earth—
It seemed so innocent of being watched.
Had I in open admiration hailed
The moment, would have quickly lost its worth.
But as the sacred moment passed untouched
It turned, and warmly gave a gracious hand.
Quite honored, I arose and felt at ease
With such majestic and inviting light,
And marveled as it roused the sleeping land.

Daniel Hess is a disciple of Jesus, husband of Laura, and father of four who likes discovering the ordinary.

Photography by Kenneth Godoy