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Morning Poem
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Every morning
the
world
is created.
Under the orange
the
world
is created.
Under the orange
Â
sticks of the sun
the
heaped
ashes of the night
turn into leaves again
the
heaped
ashes of the night
turn into leaves again
Â
and fasten themselves to the
high branches ---
and the ponds appear
like black cloth
on which are
painted islands
high branches ---
and the ponds appear
like black cloth
on which are
painted islands
Â
of summer lilies.
If it
is your nature
to be happy
you will swim away along the soft
trails
If it
is your nature
to be happy
you will swim away along the soft
trails
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for hours, your
imagination
alighting everywhere.
And if your spirit
carries within
it
imagination
alighting everywhere.
And if your spirit
carries within
it
Â
the thorn
that is heavier
than lead ---
if it's all you can do
to keep on trudging ---
that is heavier
than lead ---
if it's all you can do
to keep on trudging ---
Â
there is still
somewhere
deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth
is exactly what it wanted
---
somewhere
deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth
is exactly what it wanted
---
Â
each pond with its blazing
lilies
is a prayer heard and answered
lavishly,
every morning,
lilies
is a prayer heard and answered
lavishly,
every morning,
Â
whether or not
you have
ever dared to be happy,
whether or not
you have ever dared to pray.
you have
ever dared to be happy,
whether or not
you have ever dared to pray.
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~ Mary Oliver ~Â
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(Dream Work)
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