Morning Poem

The first thing I do in the morning is look out my window at the sun rising over the mountains. I drink in this gorgeousness. And for a few moments it feels to me that the natural world is a sacred gift, and that each new day has limitless possibilities. I let my intentions soar out to join the first illumination of the world I live in. This is the way I know to be happy.

Here is Mary Oliver, saying what I would say, if I were a poet as well as a potter:

Morning Poem by Mary Oliver

Every morning
the world
is created.
Under the orange

sticks of the sun
the heaped
ashes of the night
turn into leaves again

and fasten themselves to the high branches ---
and the ponds appear
like black cloth
on which are painted islands

of summer lilies.
If it is your nature
to be happy
you will swim away along the soft trails

for hours, your imagination
alighting everywhere.
And if your spirit
carries within it

the thorn
that is heavier than lead ---
if it's all you can do
to keep on trudging ---

there is still
somewhere deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth
is exactly what it wanted ---

each pond with its blazing lilies
is a prayer heard and answered
lavishly,
every morning,

whether or not
you have ever dared to be happy,
whether or not
you have ever dared to pray.

from Dream Work (1986) by Mary Oliver