On Being Woken at 4:30 by birds

The melody is a mantra.

It pulls the Sun
From the horizon
And my heart
Rises with it,
Eclipsing the rim
Of my despair.

You will sing
Until the Sun
Has fully kept
Its promise.

My clock
Is an abstraction:

In this hour
When motors
Still sleep,
Your alarm

Means God
Has kept His word
Another day

And so must i
keep mine.

Perhaps only you
Can see the hope
In this new day.

My hopes rise
With yours

All that is possible,
All that is prayed,
All that becomes itself
With each new moment.

--Mr. Gobley

1 comment:

karen said...


So, this happens in the cities, too? I know that's a silly question, but...

I get up now to bring in the cows. Soon, the hummers will waken me at the feeder by my window with the busy work of their wings- so close i can see their tongues sipping the nectar of sugar and H2O. I really treasure that sound. And, when the babies venture out of the nest- it's a crazy time; they are so agressive.