time to sing the morning song
hosannas
I’ve lived too long to view myself in a different light
I love the you of me
still get up for 3 a.m. meditation
splash cold water on my face
Oh Weaver,
you sweeten me like ripe peaches on a hot summer day
my eyes burn, can’t think straight outdoors pickin’ cotton
sun beatin’ down on my back
I am a pond reed through which you play music
to feed my soul
© 2020 Jennifer Brookins