Waiting For Beauty

Wet damp earth
quiet in the morning
except for the birds
that talk back and forth.

Grey airy fog
that floats through the woods
like the Spirit of the Lord
silently overtaking.

Grey dirty clouds
illuminated by the sun
pouring through the edges
burning off the dreariness.

Empty bare trees
arms reaching high
roots anchored deep
waiting for new life.

We wait for you Lord.
For your beauty to overwhelm.
We wait for you Lord,
our beautiful King.