The astral heavens are dimming out,
Stars fleeing space and free...
The ebb tide following hard
The crescenda of the sea.

The advent of morning
Metes out her promises anew
In the spider's thready web,
Like pearls, strung up with dew.

Lobster boats and long-winged gulls
Follow the placid swells
And yield, in faith, their increase,
As the pang of hunger quells.

New promises of morning weave,
With wonder and surprise.
Divine yarns that shape
The structure of our lives.