Adoration, swap prayer and Our Lady
Arise, O sleepers . . .
Look at the dawn that bathes you in its challenging purples and breezes. Why do you stand aloof to it?
A make-believe witness?
The day's start is yours as well. You didn't create it, don't deserve it, but your being is blended into it.
Arise, O workers . . .
What distracts from the beauty of Creation's perpetual Resurrection? What grays and lukewarms have you chosen over the rubies and violets, heats and chills of the gift that envelops and permeates you?
Why do you cramp, stoop, bore yourselves with tedium when holy dynamism awaits those who will merely accept it?
Now is the time. Arise.