birdsongs

There is something about waking up before daylight; something quieting, something hushed, something you lean in to listen to. Before the world yawns awake the dark stillness presses the light-lover in you to begin looking out windows or windshields for the hope of the day. The light cannot be seen but she is coming. The sounds are what you feel more than anything at first. The click of the kettle turning off. The squeaky last stair. A soft whispered "good morning."

And then the birdsong begins.

Alone in the dark, another beating feathered soul is bursting with the joy of this morning. She sings out aware of nothing else except the coming dawn. And my heart smiles at this delicate confidence that a new day is near and deserves to be welcomed. Good morning.

There is something about the mornings that make you listen to the birdsong. And I am reminded that darkness gives us eyes and ears to experience the gifts overlooked or overwhelmed by the sound of living. May I learn to always listen for the faithful little songs that are filled with the gentle melodies of God's goodness.