Early Morning Poems

Here are two early morning poems–one written yesterday, the other today–the mood lightened by frogs!



I get up taut
with what might go wrong, where
I’ll fall short.

It’s too easy to come up with

Meditators focus on the breath
but I resort, in the pre-dawn dark,
to actual prayer—in part
because it feels faster—

Big suffering in the world,
but my mind reverts to small
acts of kindness, what’s reachable, like the window
across the room, the door

It opens to a rush of air that pushes against me,
through me, but this is how air is, it doesn’t wait
for us to decide
what to do with it.


March Morning 4:30

I open an early morning door
to a frenzy of first frogs, 
flubbing, flabbering, the darkness rubbery
with rebirth, rapidfire gulps of
“let’s get going, gals” and,  I guess,
guys too.

A dog barks; everything awake
and determined
to make the most of it.

Cold at the door—yet I stay,
listening away my hesitation at the hour—
insomniacs can feel guilty
for just giving in—but as I listen, life’s not
about me—how


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One Comment on “Early Morning Poems”

  1. WildChild47 Says:

    Lovely and refreshing – I like the immediacy of these poems – and your descriptions of the frogs are superb! Holy smokes – truly captivating and wonderful. Makes me feel like I’m experiencing them through a child’s curiosity and sight 😊

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