Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for them springing fresh from the world
Sweet the rains new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall, on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass
Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
Gods recreation of the new day
...Cat Stevens, "Tea for the Tillerman"
Today's sunrise looked almost like yesterday's sunset in reverse, except that the moon was also out. I love watching both sunrise and sunset alone where it is peaceful and quiet. (It was 18 degrees F this morning when I was out but didn't feel like it.)
