God of the dawn, God of the springtime,
today I need the good news that “new” isn’t an annual opportunity
a blessing given even before I threw back the covers this morning.
Save me from the belief (vanity, really) that I am somehow stuck
that can only be changed with the annual turning of a calendar page.
Even now I hear you laughing, “My daughter, that’s hardly the case!
I am life.
I am resurrection.
God of the hibernating seed, God of the growing child,
bless me with the joy and flexibility to live into the gift of new,
and to have the courage to be on the verge with you.