Yes, somedays I fancy myself a struggling poet, a Mary Oliver wannabe. Today I am inspired by the simplest of obsevations. However, I have always been a morning person.  By 3 pm on most days the world takes on an all together different hue.  And like any writer or poet or artist of any stripe, I put my heart into the creative effort and take a risk by offering it to someone to read.  Today I feel brave so...   

“MORNINGS”

Mornings!  One of God’s gifts to us.  A chance for a new beginning.

He wants us to keep trying and so…

I walk outdoors and stretch my toes in the damp grass.

A reluctant and sleepy sun, still wrapped in small white, puffy clouds

Sends long golden fingers into a dewy grass.

Birds chirping around a feeder hung in a tree for both our satisfaction.

Treetops gently swaying in a brief yet cooling breeze

And brings to me the mating call of a Tom turkey down by the pond.

I clutch my coffee with both hands, warming my fingers before taking

A jolting brace coming to me every morning as new and delicious as it has been for so many years.

I sigh, a little rumble deep in my throat.

This music of mornings is religious and ritual and sets the rhythm of my days.

Blessings and chances. Missteps and failures. All leading me to the golden serenity of now.

When I leave this earth, I hope it will be in the glory of a morning.

As my soul soars to a new home I want to feel the sun on my face,

The birds singing me home as I reach to the outstretched hand of God!

No mourning.  Just mornings! 

by Suzanne McLennan