My Mornings.

The wind whistles through the trees
The sunrise sings in the quiet breeze.
A gorgeous day has just begun,
And I am running with the burning sun.
My eyes adjust to streaks of light,
As housetops gleam, my mind is bright.
The Lord has brought a brand new day,
For me to pray my sins away.
Each day is perfect before the fall,
When man wakes up and selfishness calls.
I struggle with this every day,
As the light cries in my cover's frays.
Each blink I give my life away,
To my great God, "Mold me, like clay."
When each new sunrise makes days longer,
The sunset shapes me into one much stronger.