Every morning
the world
is created
Under the orange
sticks of the sun
the heaped ashes
of the night
turn into leaves again
(The first few lines from “Morning Poem” by Mary Oliver)
And we have a choice to be recreated every single morning.
Every morning
the world
is created
Under the orange
sticks of the sun
the heaped ashes
of the night
turn into leaves again
(The first few lines from “Morning Poem” by Mary Oliver)
And we have a choice to be recreated every single morning.