Pete Crowther - Matins

I am a poor sleeper and rise early
But no need to sympathize,
There are compensations:
Most mornings I see the dawn
How the sky lightens, colours
Sometimes in delicate pastels
Sometimes deep flaming reds
Like war banners across the sky.
Then the sun, huge, imperial,
Mighty heaves himself up
To survey his inheritance.
What do I do to acknowledge
This giver of all life, warmth, light?
I fling my arms wide open and mouth
“Welcome! Welcome! Welcome! ”

Pete Crowther

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/matins-2/