Every Morning

mohawk haan crows close up
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

He struts,
raises his decorated neck
making himself a little taller,
and trumpets his proud shout.
And before he’s crowed not three times
– just once-
I’ve already denied
What I once announced with pride.

The dawn of my failing faith belongs to the birds.
They raise a mocking chorus.
Whistles and tweets,
chirps and chatters
singing of my defeat.

The breath of heaven scatters my hair across my face
bending the young Sissos.
I hear that rushing quiet voice

I have prayed.
I have spoken.
Go in my power.
Ride on my wings.
Let my voice be all that you need.
Get up and feed my sheep.

Remind me Lord every day
when the cock comes to announce I’ve strayed,
that you have borne my betrayal
in your crown of thorns
and you have commanded from your cross
mercy no accuser can dethrone.

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