Morning has broken like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for them springing fresh from the Word
Sweet the rain's new fall sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where His feet pass
Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God's re-creation of the new day.
I think of this as the Cat Steven's song that we used to sing in church, but was fascinated to learn about Eleanor Farjeon's life and works. Shy, not a healthy child, encouraged to write by her father, never married, staunch friend, wrote poems and stories primarily for children. What an unexpected benefit of producing a weekly Guidepost--I plan to learn more about her life and read some of her children's stories.
Linking up with Notes from a Cottage Industry
Happy Easter from