September Morn

On the canvas of a new day
the whispered prayers of my soul
rise to the illumined pastel sky

I am present in this thin space,
a threshold of beginning,
feeling the weighted blanket
of saints’ blessings upon me

From the treetops the cicadas
sing their wakeup chorus
as darkness peels into amber light—
a Godly rendezvous

I surrender to heaven,
within me and all around