morning has broken


oil on linen

In a private collection

Sold through Edgewater Gallery

I was bicycling by this barn in the early morning on a
sunlit June day, and I had to blink because the metal
roofs were so brilliantly blue. I came back to paint a
study on the next sunny morning, but by the time I got
to the barn, the sun was lost in clouds. I must have
driven to this barn 5 times to understand the barns
and the land surrounding them.


As I painted, the hymn that Cat Stevens popularized
was playing in my head.

Morning has broken, like the first morning,
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird.
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning,
Praise for them springing fresh from the word.

Sweet the rain’s new fall, sunlit from heaven,
Like the first dew fall on the first grass.
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden,
Sprung in completeness where His feet pass.

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning,
Born of the one light Eden saw play.
Praise with elation, praise every morning,
God’s re-creation of the new day.

Cool the gray clouds roll, peaking the mountains,
Gull in her free flight, swooping the skies.
Praise for the mystery, misting the morning,
Behind the shadow, waiting to shine.

I am the sunrise, warming the heavens,
Spilling my warm glow over the earth.
Praise for the brightness of this new morning,
Filling my spirit with Your great love.

Mine is a turning, mine is a new life,
Mine is a journey closer to You.
Praise for the sweet glimpse, caught in a moment,
Joy breathing deeply, dancing in flight.