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.
Self-pity,
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.
MHH
“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
Logic & Imagination 