Outside it's wet and misty gray.
Birds fly swift, then come to rest.
They seem to know which tree is best.

So why it it I sit here and wonder,
Where it is I wish to be.

In country wide with pine tree air.
City streets where taxis prowl.
Yonder mountains wooded high.
The beach, the surf, the waves that crash.

No, it is not one of these.
For where it is I wish to be,
Is in the morning,
Wherever that may be.

Greeting dawn despite,
what has been and what will be.
Seeking treasure, feeling free.

Lord what masterpiece, on this morn,
will You form me to be?

~N