Morning Poem

Every morning
the world is created.
Under the orange tree,
I have seen the sun
dramatic as a firework.
Let it be a day when I listen.
I want to remember
the perfect peace of the morning,
in the midst of chaos and creation.
No matter where I have been,
this day will hold a quiet memory for me.
The world is calling.
The sun rises with threads of gold.
Let me breathe again,
in all that is lovely;
life, in essence,
waits all around me.

• Mary Oliver