One of the most beautiful of things 

The Morning

crisp

still 

and allowing

 

Never in the day

are we granted a clear slate

like the slate delivered to our minds

when our eyes come to life 

 

No feelings of sadness

of hopelessness or pain

No triumphs

of joy 

ecstasy or fame 

 

The morning 

how it humbles me

and opens me 

allows anything

and everything

I want

to fill me up

 

By break of sun

each and every time

we are given a choice,

of how we will seek

on the given day, to run

 

One of the most beautiful of things

The emptiness

hollow 

open

and waiting

 

Never in the way

are we given nothing 

to do anything with,

the way we are,

when emptiness

washes our thoughts away 

 

No markings 

of shame

disparity or vain

No glories 

of wonder

of shining light or safe haven 

 

The emptiness

how it sits, 

in the expansiveness of morning,

Arriving every turn of the sun

giving freedom

like no other

at the breath

of each waking day

 

One of the most beautiful of things 

The morning 

One of the most beautiful of things

The emptiness

One of the most beautiful of things

the ever lasting,

ever expanding list

of all the beautiful things

 

©