Beloved God, I thank You for <br />this symphony of breakfast, <br /> <br />for the coffee <br />You have poured <br />straight into my cup <br />from Central American highlands, <br />Hawaiian sugar fields, <br />and some California cow; <br /> <br />for the oatmeal pressed from grain <br />waving somewhere in our country, <br />and butter maybe from a friend <br />of that same cow, and raisins <br />from down Fresno way, <br /> <br />and for the scrambled eggwhites, <br />free of wicked yolks, <br />but yellow just the same, <br /> <br />all an expression <br />of Your Divine Perfection. <br />Help me see for once <br />that same Perfection <br />in the rest of my day, <br />Amen.<br /><br />Max Reif<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hickory-pit-saturday-9-am/
