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A New Day

August 18, 2010

The newspaper welcomes us to a new day each morning.
Sun or rain, warm or cold,
a new day is here, and begs us to take notice.
Much notice indeed.
The alarm clock rings and tugs at your mind.
“Now’s the time, now’s the time,”
the alarm clock sings with every chime.
One slam of our hands on its head,
and the singing of the clock is, for ten minutes, dead,
until it resurrects and beckons us again, “Now’s the time.”
Nightly, before we go to bed,
we pray to receive “this day, our daily bread”
while a pile stacks up, stale by the wall.
Have we really tasted at all?
We’re all hungry, but we starve ourselves
for the sake of saving face.
What does this make of amazing grace?
The calendar hangs near the door,
a thousand days having passed here before.
Like unused tickets, the days hang bare
and whisper a quiet story there.
Lines standing square and strong,
waiting where your life belongs,
flowing through and over all those empty squares.
Don’t just stand and stare in the mirror in the morning,
waiting for a different day to dawn.
You wait for a day you won’t ache,
yearn for the day you don’t yawn.
Take your bored hands and shake your reflection
until you see your brow sweat and bend.
Ask yourself what you’ve always wanted
Then, on your knees, thank The Maker
for a chance to go out and chase it all again.
Next time you see the paper, an invitation’s at your door.
Next time you hear the alarm clock,
listen to the song you’ve never heard before.
Celebrate the gift of every day,
for it’s much better than a mere loaf of bread.
Soon you’ll find that all this time,
you’ve been feasting instead.
Next time you pray, thank the Maker first,
then ask for the grace for you to see more.
Take notice of the adventure of every day,
because your golden tickets are hanging by the door.
Life is waiting, waiting on you.
A new day is here now, what will you do?

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