Sunday, November 8, 2020 Sunday Morning

I tell a tale this morning
of a Sunday morning bird,
a Sunday morning sunrise
and a Sunday morning Word

The day starts with a glimmer
of sunlight o’er the trees,
The smell of morning coffee
The taste of morning tea

There’s a sweet anticipation
of hearts by worship stirred,
and our Sunday morning drive
past the Sunday morning bird

It waits there nonchalantly,
Wearing a gown of white
Prepared for Sunday morning
And a Sunday morning flight.

As we drive past the river
Toward our Sunday morning pew
I hear the weekly quip,
“Egrets, I’ve had a few.”

And onward our car takes us
To sing a song of ascent
At the Sunday morning feast
of Word and sacrament.

Amen.
Amen.
Amen.

This bit of Sunday morning whimsy is brought to you by Lynniebeemuseoday, who forgot to post on Friday. You’re welcome.

I’ll probably delete this..