Gray mornings, God calls us

It is very gray here in Charlottesville, but so far we've been spared the storms that are choking the mid-west and northeast. Even without big winter blizzards, February is dreary and can choke the spirit. Events in our world, from Egypt to Australia, feel grim and dire this week.

I looked through my treasure-trove of poems from our friend Karen in Tennessee, and came across this that she sent last summer; she is a little busy lately with the arrival of her second child, Sophia ("Wisdom" -- how apt!) and hasn't had time to send many poems. May many blessings fill your day and keep you warm . . .

The Love of Morning

By Denise Levertov

It is hard sometimes to drag ourselves
back to the love of morning
after we've lain in the dark crying out
O God, save us from the horror . . . .

God has saved the world one more day
even with its leaden burden of human evil;
we wake to birdsong.
And if sunlight's gossamer lifts in its net
the weight of all that is solid,
our hearts, too, are lifted,
swung like laughing infants;

but on gray mornings,
all incident - our own hunger,
the dear tasks of continuance,
the footsteps before us in the earth's
beloved dust, leading the way - all,
is hard to love again
for we resent a summons
that disregards our sloth, and this
calls us, calls us.