Morning has broken like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for them springing fresh from the Word
~Cat Stevens
Morning has broken.
Even though I'm not an early bird, (I mean, I love to sleep in), I do love early morning time. It is so quiet, then, so still. I can almost hear my heartbeat. I love this time of morning when, besides my own breathing, all I can hear are the sounds of birds singing in the day, busily preparing themselves for their tasks at hand. They always sing with joy as I witness in them their alignment with nature, with their Source.
Morning is like Springtime to me. It symbolizes new beginnings, new opportunities, do-overs. Like the rainbow as a symbol of God's promise to humankind not to destroy the world again by water, morning heralds Life's promise that we may begin again by breaking the night's fast with light. Accompanied by sunshine, morning breaks open, lights the day and our way. In this light, we may see the path set before us clearly. In this light, we may feel encouraged by the possibilities that lie in wait for us.
“Every morning we are born again. What we do today is what matters most.” ― Gautama Buddha
Morning is a mama bird feeding us baby birds as we learn to stand, then fly on our own. As we learn to do so, we forgive the errors of our yesterdays. Morning is an open door we can walk through, as if for the first time, out into the wide-open spaces of our lives. There our potentiality awaits us.
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