Occasionally something comes along, an idea, a word, a notion, that folows you areound.  I had this idea of a little town, and morning before the sun was up.  Over the course of several days i played with it, turned it over and over, took it apart and put it back together.  Here it is...still not finished:

A Quiet Morning

A quiet morning, quiet little town,
A time just before first faint light of dawn.
Nothing stirs as nightlong sleep prepares
To take its leave behind her still shut eyes.

Suddenly now light swells within the room
Fills every corner, banishes all gloom.
No graceful day here hints in sweet shades of
Rose and blue.  This is heaven's hint of Love.

Awake now, sitting mantled in the light,
Paused on a fragile point between pure fright
And ecstasy she holds herself; contains
The flood of fear and joy so much like pain

And waits suspended in eternity.

Light bows profound before this peasant child
Softening from bright majesty to mild
Address of graceful hue and shifting swirl
She hears as words and feels deep in her soul.

"The Lord is with you, child of grace," she hears,
Yet while light continues she doesn't fear
The message, hope of all, this light imparts.
Love and childlike trust dwell within her heart.

"I am the Lord's handmaid.  Let it be so."
Her quiet words releasing it, light goes.
And on the simple answer she gives rests
Creation's pivot and the end of death.