Hands Free Viewing for a One Time Show

Trust me?

Leave your phone, your notebook, and your water bottle behind.
Just you and me around the lake this morning.
Can you do this?

But what if the sunrise is spectacular?
My sunrise is not meant for you to preserve,
distribute or reproduce.

But what if there are words to record?
My words will be there,
when you return.

But what if I’m thirsty?
There’s a fountain part way around,
but you won’t need it.

So, out the door,
down the steps,
along the ramp
and through the archway I go.
Onto the path that encircles the lake.

There, there in the East is the glow.
The shadows deep, growing pink on the waters,
the geese and the swans, silhouetted against it all,
going about their morning as if this happens every day.

But I, I the intruder,
the visitor from out of town,
pause at the spectacle and smile at the cast.
Behold, the Premier! the one and only showing of
Sunrise. Today. For me.

Tears. Tears of joy.
This is a mere yawn
for the Creator of the Dawn.

Rounding the bend,
the action in the eastern sky is obscured by trees, hills and shoreline.
Wait! Don’t go!
I race around the bend but, alas,
I’m too small to see it.
Too near to perceive it.

Look away, my child.

There, in the away,
by the light of the sun just risen,
I see the day.

Take nothing with you, said He.
Nothing to encumber. Hands free.
Let me show you the Glory meant for you.
Just the two of us, here in the morning, on the mountain, around the lake.

What can I do in the face of a God who loves me like that?
but trust?

another morning