My Perfect Me Each Day

Each morning, I set for the sky, 

to whisper in my Father's ears,

My cheers, cares, or fears;

That his hearing may know my plans, 

before realms and mortals do.

 

What pleasures him is perfect for my people;

Fragrances of my schedules are one with heaven, 

As His hearts hail in unison with my wings, 

before time breathes its last for the day, 

He sets my eyes to see their blueprints,

 

Leading me by his hands, 

To choreograph choroidal mirrors 

of incarnation’s choir;

Then guides me by my feet, 

on pieces of the earth by peace,

With inward virtual and physical impressions.

Tunnel of Life has set me up with luminosity,

in the truth of time and path, 

to the imminent clan of eternal areas,

The flying officers, celestial Crowns, and deities 

Who grasp cognition of events, 

to hug the passion of His pleasure,

before the day grows in worms.