Morning Miracle every day -

This morning I saw the stars, bright lights in a black sky, and then,
the pink of dawn. I was reminded of one of my favorite poems, Daybreak
by Galway Kinnell.







Daybreak
 




  On the tidal mud, just
before sunset,
dozens of starfishes
were creeping. It was
as though the
mud were a sky
and enormous, imperfect stars
moved across it as
slowly
as the actual stars cross heaven.
All at once they stopped,
and,
as if they had simply
increased their receptivity
to gravity, they sank
down
into the mud, faded down
into it and lay still, and by the
time
pink of sunset broke across them
they were as invisible
as the
true stars at daybreak.

Galway Kinnell








I want to speak about the feeling of loss.  I think that is what I
was feeling yesterday morning, that place where the leaf has said
good-bye to the branch and is floating down toward the ground. 
Yes, I could just be in the float, but I was looking up at the branch,
wanting to thank it for all that it has been to me.  Today, I am
in the float, and one day, I will meet the ground.   For now,
I am here.