Dawns of Light
Open arms, the betrothal of rest and liberty;
a love that embraces all my falls, all my me.
Which so often obscures the way,
and that which begins pure at the break of day.
There, ill cannot be where grace abounds,
After the dark, comes faithful light; it is found.
Here, the self of dawn is awakened to distraction,
Failing to notice the benevolent breath of the occasion.
But, lo! Every moment holds promise anew,
Softening and attracting wills with unbroken Truth.
So, though many wayward steps seem as loss,
the deficit’s rescinded by so priceless a cost.
Illuminating my senses so I may perceive,
it is on Light I walk and shalt not I be deceived.