Dawning brilliance,
Pulse of God.
Words called beauty,
are weak indeed.
For colored dawn, is God’s huge yawn,
and bluest is the blacking night,
bringing out the stars so bright.
In the beauty of starry night,
soul’s sweet rest, is pulsed by God.
Begetting in this brilliant dawn,
wordless silence, shimmer drawn.
Silent colors, noiseless seem,
red is fading, orange to pink.
All is quiet until the dawn,
when all goes blue the stars go home,
and world awakens with a yawn.
Alarm bells ring,
without a say,
fire trucks sing,
the roar of day.
The perpetual pulse of God,
beats one!
Stars go out, sunrise fade.
Man arises like the sun,
bringing out what he has made,
builds today, his kingdom come.
Brilliant blue, the day’s hue,
setting into reddish blue.
Spread across horizons lost,
stars go out, His rest not sought.
Ever on, an endless eon,
thought does come between His pulse…
From sunrise, and till sunset,
in the midst of peace and wars,
victory, heartbreaks so many more.
One raise hope in victory dance,
another lies defeating chance.
Some can’t see, as victory flees,
ever amid the ruin and war,
His pulse be heard upon weak knees.
Perhaps one beat, begins the day,
answered by the shouting dawn.
The clang rings out, on heaven’s gong.
Ablazing pulse to God’s new day.
It’s always darkest before the dawn.
A baby cries, beginning life,
graying man, his last sigh.
Clasping onto life with fright,
his days move on and into night.
When at the end, the sands run down,
and beauty sun or dark is drawn.
Awake we may to heavens DAY,
only God, has last say.
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