Morning

I wake.
There is beauty.
It is not the grandiose type of beauty you imagine.
The distorted reality of a passing cliché.
In a golden sunrise along the horizon.
A gentle sweetness in the morning bird’s song.
That window’s edge.
That bright epiphany.
That sweet aroma carried en masse by an eager wind.
I have found its partner in wake.
Its senses in subtlety.
It is momentary
and the shocking acceptance of what is life.
All is good. What is known.
That at this moment I am in the context
of nothing special, out of a paltry dream,
a life better settled and a failure to plan the
possibilities, a growing mind, stronger
in obstacles. Isn’t it towered upon bittersweet?
The years of contemplation—
to arrive at such simplicity,
to embody surrender, the living and the lost.
Give me the moment.
Can I call it hope?
Becoming I, becoming the beauty,
the subtle rhythms of shared breaths
and interrupted meaning found only in silence,
breaks, contemplation, join fire and water with morning light
and you, my remnant, my souvenir,
replace the possibilities.
Let it be all, all sacred at this moment. Risen.
This anomaly,
this latent premise given only a second to live.
Peace of mind sudden. It is worth a lifetime of understanding.

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About Kate Houck

Educator. Human. Poet. Seeking truth through experience.
This entry was posted in humanity, nature and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Morning

  1. amoafowaa says:

    I love the last line, “Peace of mind sudden. It is worth a lifetime of understanding.” Beautiful poem.

  2. inesephoto says:

    “There is beauty”. It is so simply and so wonderfully said. Thank you for this poem!

  3. Kate Houck says:

    Thank you for reading, Inese!

  4. johncoyote says:

    A positive and hopeful poem. I like how you used the description to create a beautiful place and thoughts.

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