I feel.. I hear… I see…
Droplets of cold water from the sky
On a cold breezy autumn morn
Tickling my short curly hair
As I drive by two rows of wet palm trees.
Lost Angels, I call my city.
As people walk fast, hoodies put on,
Greeting each other, “Cold morning to you.”
I bow my head from the house to the car
My hands shaking opening the door…
Seldom does it rain this side of the city
But this morning is just full of His glory.
Cold Morning to you!