The morning has arrived.
The birds feed out side my door.
Someones eye is still on the sparrow.
Mercy a new has risen with the dawn,
Creating the winds of A new day.
Life and death sores the winds.
Someone's fate is bound in silver threads.
Secrets open, as the day gives it's gifts.
The eye of God is as the eagle,seeing all.
He nest upon the highest point.
His eyes see the lowest valley.
He searches hearts,in their hiding places.
He sees the kings high seat,
Watches over the homeless ones on the street.
He watches life enter,and death make an exit.
I ask but one question,
As I sit in the shadow of his wings,
What does this day hold?