Every Morning
The day begins in possibility—
Eternity arches before sunset.
The mountains peer in the remote Blue Ridge;
The sky is drawing me in its blue net.
Do Cherubim and Seraphim wing high
Over the peaking clouds from east to west?
There hosts of darkness, and throngs of angels,
Unnoticed, war from the abyss to crest?
Invisibility may blesséd
As the sun soars in its trajectory.
As I step out, and lock the door, today:
What has God planned in His directory?
Peter C. Venable 