In the morning's pristine mirth
In the flowers awesome blooming birth
In songs of birds and music of earth
how do i get oft that wonderous sense
OfThy compassion, Thy Love,Thy presence,
How do i find how in thy world every day
Light greets the arrival of another day,
And i again in my heart how do get
There is no end to Your poetic state
Is it a flowing one, a river true,
As oft i stand before Her to view
Her sparkling silvery beautiful hue,
Or is it that tune of primordial song
Which keeps on ringing for ages long?
i do never try to find how You arrive
With which song or music You fill our life
Only do i go by Your songs, paintings and writes
That You have left for us subtle yet bright.
Monday, November 27, 2017
Morning is a river
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