Morning Poem

Every morning
the world is created.
Under the orange and purple
flares of the sky,
the day breaks like a ripe fruit,
and there is so much to see:
the dew trembling on leaves,
the wind urging lilies open,
the soft grass rolling underfoot.
There is every shape of life
and beauty,
every shadow dancing,
every brew ready
to go.
Look!
The sky is shifting,
the sunlight is spilling.
Reach for the day,
for the breath of the morning
that is made just for you.

• Mary Oliver