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.