Tanara McCauley

Culturally Imagined Stories

When Morning Comes – A Poetic Version

Photo Courtesy of psxextreme.com

Night falls
As I knew it would
Bringing nothing good
Though I need the rest
Heart faint
Leery of the tide
Bent to steer this ride
Into sure duress

Tears break
Melancholy glass
But this too shall pass?
This unbridled storm?
Clouds form
Gone now are the stars
Like a song’s last bars
With its memories warm

Hushed call
Yes, I hear Your voice
You are still my choice
Though the darkness crowds
Pieces fall abstract
Joy now dressed in black
Hope, its kin, in shrouds

Orange streaks
Bold as charging steeds
Beasts of noble deeds
Pierce my lidded slits
Warmth creeps
Cracks the lonely cold
Light from days of old
Shadowed guile submits

Pain flees
Chased by mending time
Faith and courage climb
Spirit carries on
Hushed call
Yes, I hear Your voice
You are still my choice
You have brought the dawn

Night may come again
Fateful wounding friend
Bruising blows anon
Lord, I hear Your voice
I have made my choice
With You comes the dawn

© 2012 Tanara McCauley

Psalm 30:5b “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”

4 responses to “When Morning Comes – A Poetic Version”

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