I will wait on the Lord in the morning As the sun lights the tips of the hills. The Sierras are brightened by new dawn And my heart turns to the wonders of God. His creation calls out for His glory And the night runs to hide in the shadows. The creatures He made all look upward And watch to see if He comes. When He does not they all founder As grief stricken they weep in their cups. In sorrow they cry out for endings. In patience they once again wait. They wait for the Messiah of new mornings, Of creations new and unknown. For endings are new beginnings, A new earth and new heaven will come. The streets will be paved not with gold as we know it, But something more precious and pure And the words we use to describe it Are pitiably poor and fall short. But the day will come when we see it And we cry out, a chorus of stones Whose bodies are walls for a temple Filled by Spirit and spiritual home.