A small break in the clouds
And the morning light paints the sky with reds, yellows and bright.
Just a quick peek,
Then gone.
Clouds - high, quiet blankets of gray now rule.
It colors my life - isolated under this blanket of gray
Focused not on the sun, that is not seen,
but on the monotone color of an overcast morning -
seen, felt, believed and quiet.
It colors my opinion of morning information.
High winds aloft begin to scrub the sky
stirring up the blanket of gray into soft cotton-balls of white
And the sun is again revealed.
It never moved. Always there. Now shining.
The day feels better.
Colors more brilliant. Shadows dance with the morning dew.
The air looses its chill and my life is once again colored by the sun.
Then the thought hits me:
my life should always be colored by the Son - seen or unseen.
Focus on the Son that I know is there - not on the clouds that chill the air.
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Where's your focus?
Copyright 2010 by P. Griffith Lindell