“Wait for the Lord and keep his way, and he will exalt you to inherit the land; you will look on when the wicked are cut off.”
Come, sunrise, again tomorrow.
Tide, your circadian blanket throw.
Leaves, return this Spring, outgrow
the gray of winter sorrow.
Shuffle through your phases, moon,
another cycle, another tide,
another dawn coaxing bright
diurnal birdsong into bloom.