Morning Has Broken

Morning Has Broken
by Cat Stevens

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, sunlight from heaven. 
Like the first dew fall, 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 recreation of the new day. 

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.

It rained early this morning, but it stopped by the time the sun had risen. I looked out of my window and opened the screen to give me an unobstructed view of the now wet garden. The leaves were sparkling as the rays of the sun hit the water droplets on them. The birds were singing happily. The air smelled fresh. The rays of the sun grew brighter and brighter as if it were showcasing the beauty of the garden.

I asked myself: How can I feel sadness when I am surrounded with such beauty and wonder? I must be doing something terribly wrong. Obviously.

Here we go again. Another one of life’s practice sessions. On with the day! :)

Advertisements