The Morning Sun

by Michael Shindler

Endeavour to be like the Morning Sun
Now sailing upon the circadian tide
Who grants warmth to the world when it’s earned none,
Without a sound and without hint of pride,
Who lights the land as unversed lovers love,
Demanding nothing, save to give yet more,
And performs his splendid duty above,
Amid times of peace and mid times of war,
Though, not aloft over mountains and men,
But down on earth among the mortal crowd,
Not throning on the tall seat of heaven
Enwrapped in the fleece of a blushing cloud,
But in all the lowly, gloomy places
To warm and brighten despondent faces.

Michael Shindler is a writer living in Washington, DC. His work has been published in outlets including Church Life, Mere Orthodoxy, Jacobite, New English Review, The American Conservative, and The American Spectator. Follow him on Twitter: @MichaelShindler

“The Morning Sun” was first published in The Imaginative Conservative, Oct. 13, 2018 ( The featured image above, “The Sun” (1911), is by Edvard Munch.