Every morning I am glad to wake
to the light through the slats,
the gift of sun still there,
that great friend in the heavens
bringing warmth to the dawning.
It’s time to stand up and see,
to shake off the stiffness of night,
to lift my dog from the bed,
time to start coffee and go outside,
gather the paper and look at the mountains;
to welcome the grace of more hours
when perhaps nothing will happen,
though we might be blessed,
tumble into some new scent or flower,
find something that penetrates
to such a living depth inside
that we would never want to forget;
both of us happy and grateful
for another day on our planet.

© by Michael Bourgo.
Used with the author’s permission.