Mornings are for rising up, and pouring your light onto the world. The sun rises, soft rays merging with the receding darkness; go out into the light.
Stand there a moment. The colors of the world are waiting for you.
Look at the flowers, who bend and curl up at night, then rise in the morning seeking the light of this new day.
you are a flower too. Look up, see the multicolored sky, the hues of purple, blue, orange and yellow, and the receding blue darkness of the waking land.
Feel the crispcoolness of the morningnight air. Let it wrap itself around you and know you are a part of them too.
mornings are for listening. A waking symphony greets you. The softsongs of birds rise on the downbeat of the receding night; you are a song too; moving amongst the music of humanity
Can you hear your song?
The deer hear and stand in the shadowy treeline listening. They know what you can only sense; God moves among us in the whispering leaves of the trees and the soft step of the fawn, paints the awakening flower and each shade of green in the softly waving grass beckoning you to life.
as you walk, don’t look down. Mornings are for looking up; rising up; rising above, for flight.
The rising sun and the sinking moon are twin souls bidding each other hello and goodbye forever dancing around each other earth round to the orchestra of millennia
Mornings are for you; mornings are for rising up; rising above; this is a new day with a blank canvas for painting your colors as only you can paint them; be bold, be soft, be true.