I want you every morning to feel full
    to rise more red and fearless than the sun
    to step towards the window where the cold
    has etched his midnight message on the glass
    asking you back into his arms. Do not
    wipe away the dew-words with warm
    hands.  Do not let the shadows frame
    your oceans; so full you’re spilling light,
    just gather your shining self across the room and
    gasping to the sink, the mirror crackling
    to behold you.  I want you to feel full, so pregnant
    with yourself the tap should sparkle into gold,
    the water wash itself in your clear eyes, your lips
    can only speak of nourished truths too large
    to hide behind frustration.  Look!  You have to see
    yourself again, full in the glass, nothing but deserving
    of the ordinary day’s uncontainable miracles, smiling
    at what treasures it can bring you till at last you come
    home to this waiting fruit, this life, this body
    and this voice that won’t cease song till hungers end.
    So full you reach in gentle gratitude inside, swim
    in swelling seas with unclenched fingers, put out flames
    with gladdened hisses, birth sweet embers, glow
    and rise again tomorrow and tomorrow
    as you make and fuel and fill the world.

13 October 2009   16:14 hours
psalm of birds and birthdays { } to do list