©2014 Susan Noyes Anderson
image by Portia Lee
On a quiet summer morning,
after night’s unbroken rest,
I look past the tree-framed window
and discover I am blessed.
Peaceful joy arrives on tiptoe,
I’ve been gazing at gray shadows;
now they’ve fallen from my eyes.
Nothing changed. The scene is static,
every branch and leaf in place,
yet the sun is warm and welcome
as it plays across my face.
Tender mercies may seem fleeting,
but their goodness lingers on.
Knowing that the night is coming,
shall not wrest from me the dawn.
“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all.” – Emily Dickinson