Give thanks to the Lord, tell his name,
make known his deeds among the peoples.
O sing to him, sing his praise;
tell all his wonderful works!
The finches are swagging the dawn
with their butter-bright flying--
a sinewy multitude
disturbing the sky.
While drinking coffee on the porch,
blurred a blush
in delicate lilting:
a long glance,
like light gold leaves’
of an unseen eminence;
or blazing wings
of nebulae falling;
or God musing
a breath in eternity.