Sometimes as the soft glow of sunrise

lightly touches a waking world,

I go to my garden, hoe in hand,

To deftly slice the roots of weeds

My soul drinks in

air fresh with the morning,

daybreak's exuberant bird song,

and the pastel colors that wash the sky.

I feel the expectancy of the sun,

calling his beloved Earth

To live fully another day.

I step into a space

Where words are not yet formed;

I greet the day, not knowing

what will come to meet me

What will rise from within me.

What will form as we breathe together?

Two butterflies,

the first Monarchs of this season,

rise in spirals high above the zinnias.

My mind flutters with possibilities.

How could I have forgotten

how important rising is?

If I am lucky,

As sweat pours off my face and

My guts call out for water.

My soul will affirm

my dance with the day;

My heart opening like

A mysterious Mona Lisa smile.