The Waking Poem

Wake up at dawn, dear;
Hurry, come and see
What this good Creator,
Will do for you and me.

The trees are being painted.
The stars splash and soar.
So close, such real pleasure,
Of you with me, oar to oar.

The sweetness lives on,
And the deepness still swirls.
Delight presses us upward,
The color of life unfurls.