...And under the trees, beyond time's brittle drift,
I stood like Adam in his lonely garden
On that first morning, shaken out of sleep,
Rubbing his eyes, listening, parting the leaves,
Like tissue on some vast, incredible gift.
I awake today to a cold day - the day's work before me when I'd rather roam under the trees listening to the random song of life. So I step out under the stars and circle once, as if in the center of a gentle whirlpool of a lake's womb, thanking Eve, the mother of us all.
How do you see the gift of the world on those morning where waking seems to be the same old thing day after day?