There are few things more radiant than the rising sun

I miss those days of the early morning beach runs

Afterward, sitting quietly reflecting on the day

That had just happened or that was on its way

The wave that I would later catch and ride

The secrets of the ocean that would quietly confide

But most of all, I miss the beauty of every sunrise

As they would unfold before my waiting eyes

Each of these being their own resplendent treasure

That I loved beyond any endless measure

The morning skies were always painted like a tapestry

Or nearly always through God’s great mastery

I wonder now if I will ever see these skies again

And if so… when?

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