Good morning to the birds of heaven.
Good morning to the sun after the insomniac hours.
Good morning to the chenille blanket that held me cozy.
Good morning to the family pictures on the wall, reclaiming their faces.
Good morning to the bedstead of my father and his father before him.
Good morning to my children who, with their stuffed animals,
climb in to cuddle and hold me for more minutes of sleeping.
Good morning to the luxurious stretching of my arms,
legs, and waist—as they reclaim the shape of my body.
A very good morning to the hazy, impressionist trees in early fog
as they rustle the blue sky into solid colour.
Good morning to the free gift that lets me choose a better choice.
Good morning to the birds of heaven as I want to sing
back to them, to give them the company they bless me with.
Good morning to crumbs that feed even the earth.
Good morning to my Lord whom I wish to breathe into my being.
Good morning to my heart that lifts to the birds of heaven
and my fresh chance to again make this one day right,
this one day I hope to appreciate and earn
as I step onto the green and dewy world’s mantled body
and the morning lies before me.
