New Prayer, New Day

As long as I'm allowed 
to stay alive,
I will view this world 
with a deep affinity;

and offer a prayer 
of praise that grows 
silently, slowly,
like the early light of dawn.

Just now, the meadowlark,
celebrating only his
second year of life,
is calling me 
into his field of deep grass;
now jumping to a branch
to welcome his visitor.

Looking beyond...
new clouds 
are forming above 
the eastern horizon,
growing silently, slowly, 
into shapes of words
to a new prayer
for this new day.

But for these two seconds,
the Meadowlark is
nothing but song.
Then his wings whir,
gliding over deepening grass,
now leaving this field,
he is gone.

©  2014  Richard Havenga

Listen to the song of the Eastern Meadowlark.