Poem May 25, 1981 Issue

Morning prayer

(See Matt. 7:25)

ANN ELISABETH BURIKS-VIS

Wind-tossed trees
at my morning window;
a wild sky, prophesying
a cleansing day.

I watch, thoughts forming:
let Love divine,
enfolding everyone's true
identity (yours, mine, everyone's)
in steadfast, living Truth,
strengthen my house (meaning consciousness),
that it may stand
when winds come tossing
against my walls.

Safe on that rock
—no loose sands there—
of understanding:
daylight's breaking
in vision triumphant.

ANN ELISABETH BURIKS-VIS

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