{Morning Specters}

Early, before it’s decent to be awake
I startle.

Up. This is the hour
When fear takes hold and when I cannot reason

With facts or data.  I seem to be a pawn in somebody’s cruelty.

Fear and something akin to panic passes through
Me. Whispering, wailing and contemptuous.

Still, if I’m fortunate, and today I was
I roll over and sleep ’til dawn.


“If God has made your cup sweet, drink it with grace; if He has made it bitter, drink it in communion with Him.” —  Oswald Chambers

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