The roosters belt out at the top of their syringes,
they’re just so into the morning sun;
but not the Grammy.
Hope gets it straight, little one.
The iPad prompts at five-forty-five:
Snooze or stop?
Meeting is about to start;
Right hand struggles searching to tap.
The meeting: Not on Webex, nor on Zoom.
No webcam needed, nor mic for sure.
Brain maybe half awake;
but the heart is throbbing true.
The Big One speaks
of Psalms Thirty: Verse Five.
Though happy tears make it to cheeks,
joy seeps in. . .
Seeps in, seeps in, seeps in. . .
And gratitude is all around.
Nobody is ever muted to say:
Thank You, Amazing You!