Tuesday, April 5, 2011

When Morning's Broken

Back in the infancy of the Worldwide Web, when Chat Rooms were all the rage, I got my first computer. One of the people I met in the "Bapticostal" Chat Room was known as Purlette. I eventually found out her name was Elizabeth Skabernicky, and she lived in Barrie, Ontario.

She'd, as of then, just lost her brother and her husband. I'd just started writing poetry then .. 13 years ago .. and she asked if I could write one for her brother. She told me that, when they were young, they lived in Orlando (as I recall) and sometimes, before dawn, her brother would wake her up and they'd sneak out, to a nearby lake, and watch the sunrise. He'd show her all the animals as they roused, and she had a ton of fond memories of him. Based on that description, I wrote the following poem and sent it to her.

As things worked out, she recently found me on Facebook, and we renewed our old friendship. She reminded me of the poem .. at my advancing age, I'd forgotten who I wrote it for .. and I told her I'd post it here. In case someone actually reads this.

You never know .....

Anyway, herewith:


In the stillness of the birth of day
I'm led to watch .. I'm led to pray
I watch the sun disturb the still
And pray that God will make my will

Into his own, as I start once more
In the first day of forevermore
To serve a God who's done so much
Through friends and family, church and such

And a brother dear who's no longer near
To show me God and wipe my tear
Yet most of what he meant to me
Comes back to life whene'er I see

The robin tend her young in nest
And I realize God’s plan was best
Not only when the birds He feeds
But also when He tends my needs.

I realize that my heavenly home
Will know no night, yet as I roam
Earth's sod I cannot help but feel
That morning there is just as real

As when I sat with brother dear
And first felt God was real and near
But until I’m there, and mine eyes shall see
I'll hold his love most dear to me

And cling to love's most precious token
'Til, with him, I’ll see morning broken...