In the pre dawn I know for sure
I am the created
not the creator
When the Pine Trees' dark shadows cast upon the lake
Mystically dissolve into glassy ripples
When the tawy haze in the east melds into the whole sky
The west, a moment ago inky black
Now, a muted lavender;
the most gentle of colors
Stars fade into oblivion
I am cradled in this breath of creation
The lone bird calls his kind to wake up, wake up!
So too
my Creator
calls me.
"The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep.
And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters" Genesis 1"2
