Tuesday, October 27, 2020

Slice of Life Tuesday: Morning

 Out of the Morning


Will there really be a morning?

Is there such a thing as day?

Could I see it from the mountains

If I were as tall as they?


Has it feet like water-liles?

Has it feathers like a bird?

Is it brought from famous countries

Of which I have never heard?


Oh, some scholar! Oh, some sailor!

Oh, some wise man from the skies!

Please to tell a little pilgrim

Where the place called morning lies!


Emily Dickinson



No matter how many worries there are the night before, morning keeps coming, with its new chance to get things right, its new light and its birds singing. I usually wake up well before light, and I lie there quietly, adjusting to life again, remembering the people I love, praying for them. I get up and visit the bathroom, take my medicine that needs to be taken pre-food.  I get back in bed and check my email on my phone. I read my notifications on Facebook. I post my daily photo. 

But soon the light comes. None of that other stuff can compete with the light. Sometimes, when it's especially breathtaking, I rush downstairs and out my gate to take pictures of it. My pictures don't ever come close to doing justice to that beautiful light. Here it is, another morning! What are you going to do with it? 

By the time we leave for work, the spectacular morning colors have faded. There is such a thing as day. Here goes.


Glenda Funk said...

I love the poem. I’m saving it because I’ll likely ask the question “Will there ever be a morning” in a metaphorical way if I’m not happy w/ the election’s results. Your morning routine sounds much like my own. I like seeing out the window as the sun rises.

arjeha said...

This is one of my favorite poems. I enjoy watching the bedroom brighten as the sun rises. There is hope with the dawn of a new day.

Fran Haley said...

Joy cometh in the morning ... so beautiful, Ruth. Morning is a reminder of redemption.

Jess said...

I can picture you pushing through the gate to enjoy the spectacular mornings you write of. Those moments before the light feel like something to savor.

Ruth Ayres said...

This line "but soon the light comes," gave me pause. You are right — nothing can compete with the light.
Shine on,