Days
Each one is a gift, no doubt,
mysteriously placed in your waking hand
or set upon your forehead
moments before you open your eyes.
mysteriously placed in your waking hand
or set upon your forehead
moments before you open your eyes.
Today begins cold and bright,
the ground heavy with snow
and the thick masonry of ice,
the sun glinting off the turrets of clouds.
Through the calm eye of the window
everything is in its place
but so precariously
this day might be resting somehow
on the one before it,
all the days of the past stacked high
like the impossible tower of dishes
entertainers used to build on stage.
No wonder you find yourself
perched on the top of a tall ladder
hoping to add one more.
Just another Wednesday
you whisper,
then holding your breath,
place this cup on yesterday's saucer
without the slightest clink.
by Billy Collins, US Poet Laureate 2001-2003
Love your lines
ReplyDeleteso wonder and so true
very well written :-)
Have a nice week-end
Hugs
Kareltje =^.^= ♥ Betsie >^.^<
Anya :)
Lovely Poem, Abby : )
ReplyDeleteHave a great weekend " Days " !
That's so lovely, my friend.
ReplyDeleteThat is a great post. I am always excited to start a new day. Thanks for that. Hope you have a super weekend.
ReplyDeleteI never thought of days in that way before. It is very thought provoking.
ReplyDeleteFirst thing efurry morning we wake up and give thanks for a new day coz each one is so special. Thank you for posting something so beauteeful and a reminder to all that each day is a wonderful gift.
ReplyDeletePurrs to you all!
Awwww what a lovely poem, very wistfully true!!! Thank you! There never are enough days so we might as well make the most of what we have!! Take care
ReplyDeletex
Very beautiful and so true....we are only promosed the very moment we are in and we should seize each and every one.
ReplyDeleteHugs Madi
Beautiful post. So very true.
ReplyDeleteHave a great weekend
<3
We loved that poem and the picture too.
ReplyDeleteLuv Hannah and Lucy xx xx
That was purrfect, and oh so true!
ReplyDeleteGreat poem :)
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem! I love Billy Collins.
ReplyDeleteBilly! The Human is enslaved to him & his poetry. He comes every few years to City Arts & Lectures and she and her friend go to see him Efurry Single Time!
ReplyDeleteI'm having a good day, thanks! :-)
ReplyDelete