The Morning
By Charlene Langfur
QuailBellMagazine.com
QuailBellMagazine.com
I am used to going out in the dark, but today I am
dazzled by the clear blue sky, rippled with rose
dazzled by the clear blue sky, rippled with rose
colored clouds, all in a pattern, a geometric marvel for
the eyes. Maybe I say this because it is new, life lived
early in the daylight with the buoyancy of it all. A
shift of DNA in a way, a body opening up outside
of the darkness. Nothing of the outer universe or
explosions of a super nova on the edge of the galaxy,
no deep space stuff overhead, with all the touches of black
holes about it. None of that but instead, this rising
of ground and balance and feeling. Levitation by
changing the way a single act is done on a single day
on a planet made up of solids, a place where walking
is easy in the open air this time of day. This is the way
the new comes and I sit with it for a while to learn how
it works. Tiny birds land on the bushes and twitter. Yes
in the middle of winter in the full light. I have taken to
the morning and everything that comes with its clarity
and ease. Yellow trumpet flowers. Pink poppies growing
wild, the white roses opening up petal by petal, and the snow
on the mountain tops again, the crow on the palm tress
and the new little dates, seeds, a new start, how easily
I could have missed i
the eyes. Maybe I say this because it is new, life lived
early in the daylight with the buoyancy of it all. A
shift of DNA in a way, a body opening up outside
of the darkness. Nothing of the outer universe or
explosions of a super nova on the edge of the galaxy,
no deep space stuff overhead, with all the touches of black
holes about it. None of that but instead, this rising
of ground and balance and feeling. Levitation by
changing the way a single act is done on a single day
on a planet made up of solids, a place where walking
is easy in the open air this time of day. This is the way
the new comes and I sit with it for a while to learn how
it works. Tiny birds land on the bushes and twitter. Yes
in the middle of winter in the full light. I have taken to
the morning and everything that comes with its clarity
and ease. Yellow trumpet flowers. Pink poppies growing
wild, the white roses opening up petal by petal, and the snow
on the mountain tops again, the crow on the palm tress
and the new little dates, seeds, a new start, how easily
I could have missed i
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