Always The Morning Comes

A Poem by Mr. Stage Four

Always the morning comes,
      in one manner or another.
Still, thank God for every morning.

If pain interrupts the ritual
      of toast and coffee,
still there is food and shelter.

It is so quiet here, in the new day
      erupting.
There is no need
       to turn on the world.
It will come soon enough.

Thank you God, thank you.
        I'm still here.

I haven't thanked You enough in my life.
      I've been too self-absorbed.
Too content with making endless requests of You.
Now I see that is has been difficult to hear You
      since I've not ever listened.
Forgive me for not appreciating the silence,
    for not giving You my ears.

It is true what the Scriptures teach.
There is only now. Only this moment.

Living now, I live forever.