dawn’s fingers
draw the moon-washed
drapes of the night
to gently open the day
They brush the sky
with the pinks and golds
of the creeping sun
as slowly
from the east he peeps
for one more rendezvous
with our planet earth.
so let Your fingers
pry open the benighted
mantles of my mind
and unlock wisdom’s door
Then softly sprinkle
Your sweet grace
upon my slumbering soul
as gradually
from this torpor I awake
once more my tryst to keep
with Your Light Divine
