I sit here every dawn because I do,

and I keep the fire going because I want the warmth.

I eat a piece of toast because I’m hungry

and look up at the morning star because it’s there.

I listen to my heart because it’s beating

and it’s quiet in the stillness of this room.

I take a breath because I want the air

and cannot stop what enters me with every breath--

these thoughts, these memories, these longings

that swirl in me because they do.

Today it’s going to rain because a storm is coming

and the sky is grey because dark clouds are covering the sun.

So much is happening in these woods

I can’t explain because I can’t--

and even if I tried, I’d be guessing, even lying,

pretending I know more than I do.

And so I look up at the clock because it’s ticking,

measuring the minutes and the mystery

of how I came to sit here in this chair,

this cup of coffee in my hand,

welcoming another day that comes

no matter what I do.