She's awake in the morning Long before I ever stir She's hungry for the oil and the water And the flour gets rolled for the bread She has ears for the birdsong That decorates the darkest blue Her voice is in her hands and the whispering Is her song in the hours before the sun is due She moves out through the morning While the stars still wander Over streets, over houses She pulls a blanket And the dew of her feet is a washing She looks into our faces With the love that she's received And bestows it on us like a white carnation The well of her heart is a clear spring She sees God in the sunrise That paints the roofs of everything She runs with the wind of the morning She taps on my window and I'm awake