FAITH | MORNINGS | DEVOTION | HABIT OF EXPECTING WONDER | REFLECTION

Every Morning the Word Pours Again

What a bowl of water, a waking sky, and a believing heart taught me about grace, testimony, and the strange beauty of being alive another day.

Photo by Nastia Petruk on Unsplash

The jug funnels into the bowl making sounds of quick pitch friendship between flute, cymbals, and beaded gourd flow upon flow they pleat themselves In ways individual drops cannot like drapes with fine lines air hemming dew As fog makes the first witness before the first stretch of the sun.

Young hearts gallop in jogs after what the Word in light and truth will beam onto the mind sweet fragrance for the nostrils As eyes will see what miracles and testimonies the Word is up to by the heart of whom believes to look beyond the head and send tongues of their mouth and mind to chant the beams that pitch forth.

So shall be the day that is going by with eyes at sleep, rest, wake, or stare, as the stars' grain of sand and souls that spirit on with all species and scents as the spice of sweet, soft spur of living.

When the other dozen ticks down We have another flip to go with and see another segment of what is in His heart called the secret given to us by grace.

Then we will gallop in jogs see what miracles and testimonies the Word is up to because we have made our hearts believe to look beyond our heads and send tongues of our mouths and minds to chant the beams that pitch forth.

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