At break of day when eastward light unfolds,
Behold the sky, a tapestry of grace;
Our hearts arise as gilded rays behold,
And thoughts provoke to prayer in this fair place.

O Lord of dawn, whose breath revives the morn,
You paint the heavens with celestial fires;
We lift our voices mid the dew‐touched thorn,
Our souls enflamed with praises and desires.

As sunlit beams chase shadows from the land,
So cast away our fears and dark despair;
Our spirits, kindled by Your guiding hand,
Respond in reverence, humble and aware.

Grant that each breath, each pulse, each waking hour,
Be spent in worship at Your throne on high;
Let every thought, like incense sweet in power,
Ascend, O King of Glory, to the sky.

© c.f. leach, 2025. Copyright protected. All rights reserved.