It took me years
Beyond when grown
To sup its pleasures
Yet unknown.
The sampling of a morning cup,
Clear reward for getting up,
Just a few minutes of warmth and rest,
Before venturing out from the nest.
For years I passed by this simple pleasure,
In hope of a few more moments of leisure.
Shrinking back under the covers in bed,
Pushing back the feelings of dread,
Of meeting the day, less than prepared,
Bored and weary, yet unaware,
That just a few moments in search of You,
Could make worries flee and all seem new.
You offer a cup, a lap, a place,
For me to come before the race.
A simple place of sanctuary,
Just minutes asked to come and tarry.
And be filled from head to toe,
With the warmth of Your Spirit flow.
Free to drink from every morn,
Oh, foolish pride, why did I scorn?
That I knew best how to spend my time,
Passing by these moments sublime.
And now as I sit in the morning sun,
Finally a day where I don’t have to run.
I can scarcely get enough of You,
This time so precious,
These moments so few.
I long to stay with my pen,
Capturing the thoughts You send.
But though these days are few and rare,
I know I can count on
That You will be there,
Offering the smallest sip,
A word or a song upon my lip,
That will sustain me by Your side to stay.
You fill my cup in every way.
