Seven 30 Sun
I was running in the seven 30 sun,
Breathing in paces,
Striding with rhythm.
I came to rest beneath tall trees,
Seeking to recover,
Gazing at ground,
My head hanging low.
Staring downward there is nothing to see,
The last jogger’s print,
A cluster of grass,
A dry leaf.
There is so much we never see.
When you are looking for nothing, it is easy to find.
I looked up into the seven 30 sun.
There was a cluster of oaks embracing light, forming a portal with a beam.
A street,
A barn,
A bridge for a train,
A hill whispering autumn,
Each of them staggered and rising,
Each of them being rescued from darkness by the seven 30 sun.
A cathedral of yellow overcoming night grasping edges of
The street,
The barn,
The bridge for a train,
The hill whispering autumn.
I continued to watch,
Now with calm breaths,
Each passing moment revealing more;
The street enabling destiny,
The barn becoming red,
The bridge fading in mist, captured by the first breaths of morning from an awakening creek below,
The hill no longer whispering; but now welcoming autumn.
We stand in His presence morning by morning ignoring the litany of the seven 30 sun:
Daily, to awaken from darkness,
Daily, to hear seasons proclaim hope,
Daily, to witness Cathedrals, places to worship, emerge from landscape,
Daily, to simply look up and see.
We look for nothing, and find it, daily.
Look high and praise the Creator.
He builds morning Cathedrals and calls us to worship Him with the seven 30 sun.
Psalm 19:1-6 (NKJV)
The heavens declare the glory of God;
And the firmament shows His handiwork.
Day unto day utters speech,
And night unto night reveals knowledge.
There is no speech nor language
Where their voice is not heard.
Their line has gone out through all the earth,
And their words to the end of the world.
In them He has set a tabernacle for the sun,
Which is like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,
And rejoices like a strong man to run its race.
Its rising is from one end of heaven,
And its circuit to the other end;
And there is nothing hidden from its heat.
Breathing in paces,
Striding with rhythm.
I came to rest beneath tall trees,
Seeking to recover,
Gazing at ground,
My head hanging low.
Staring downward there is nothing to see,
The last jogger’s print,
A cluster of grass,
A dry leaf.
There is so much we never see.
When you are looking for nothing, it is easy to find.
I looked up into the seven 30 sun.
There was a cluster of oaks embracing light, forming a portal with a beam.
A street,
A barn,
A bridge for a train,
A hill whispering autumn,
Each of them staggered and rising,
Each of them being rescued from darkness by the seven 30 sun.
A cathedral of yellow overcoming night grasping edges of
The street,
The barn,
The bridge for a train,
The hill whispering autumn.
I continued to watch,
Now with calm breaths,
Each passing moment revealing more;
The street enabling destiny,
The barn becoming red,
The bridge fading in mist, captured by the first breaths of morning from an awakening creek below,
The hill no longer whispering; but now welcoming autumn.
We stand in His presence morning by morning ignoring the litany of the seven 30 sun:
Daily, to awaken from darkness,
Daily, to hear seasons proclaim hope,
Daily, to witness Cathedrals, places to worship, emerge from landscape,
Daily, to simply look up and see.
We look for nothing, and find it, daily.
Look high and praise the Creator.
He builds morning Cathedrals and calls us to worship Him with the seven 30 sun.
Psalm 19:1-6 (NKJV)
The heavens declare the glory of God;
And the firmament shows His handiwork.
Day unto day utters speech,
And night unto night reveals knowledge.
There is no speech nor language
Where their voice is not heard.
Their line has gone out through all the earth,
And their words to the end of the world.
In them He has set a tabernacle for the sun,
Which is like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,
And rejoices like a strong man to run its race.
Its rising is from one end of heaven,
And its circuit to the other end;
And there is nothing hidden from its heat.
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