This morning, as I stepped outside, this poem began to come into my heart and at 9:27 a.m. it was complete.
The Cold, Crisp Air of Early Morn
The early morning sun upon
The tall green pine,
The smile of God upon my heart,
He says now you are mine.
The frost upon the winter ground,
There from the breath of God,
His Spirit now proclaims His grace,
His fame to spread abroad.
The quiet patter of the feet
Of deer which crossed the field,
The peace He gives to quiet hearts,
As to His will they yield.
The sound of a pecker in the wood
Whose face I do not see,
Resounds the voice of Christ so clear,
His glory now in me.
The cold, crisp air of early morn
Brings shivers o'er my being,
Reminds me of the presence of
Almighty God I'm seeing.
Oh, what resplendent joy He gives
To such a wretch like me,
Because of Christ, my Lord, and King,
Who died upon the tree.
As tears of wonder fill my eyes
Because of all my sin,
And words escape my grasp to tell
This Gift that I've been giv'n.
Oh, thank You Father for benefits
In which I now delight,
To walk with You in this cold world,
Give glory in Your sight.
Michael E. Wood 01-11-10
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