MORNING HOUR SONG-poem [Sa, 12-12-20]

 CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith & Life for the Years of Winter

MORNING HOUR SONG-poem [Sa, 12-12-20]

 

As I sing my morning song

in a key known but to me

 

I hear the distant chant

of ancient peoples in a native tongue

wistful woodsmoke for their harmony

elk and rabbit keeping time

with watchful eye

plains song

 

I hear the chorus of solitary monks

in stone cold chapels

as lowing cows and crowing roosters

join in the monotones

of their kind

plainsong

 

I hear the moaning

clank of chains

as mocking birds and croaking toads

do grace notes as they hear

the strains of chariots swinging low

slave song

 

I hear the groaning from the cross,

the silence of an empty tomb

grumbling of the devil

and laughter of the cherubs

the morning hour song

our song

 

John Robert McFarland