This morning, fresh as a lilac bloom in a sun-warmed kiss of dew,

sweet as the summer plum, glisten of skin between teeth,

the air a hush, the sky a slate for nested wildling dreams

This morning, thick and fulsome, like the forest floor that bends

your ear to everything earthed, the crawling and the soaring

This morning a river, miles-long promise, tidal threshold

to a world that can’t be seen.

How it comes, benediction and slanting light,

the secrets shed by night

or maybe stone, desert thirst,

a barren choke of prayers

This morning — new day in a new year,

the possibilities fraught, bright

endless

one small praise for beginning

this step only, the first across

and forward

the entered self emerging