May I not miss wonder.
Keep me awake and aware of the world. It is my privilege to perform my morning prayers. It is my honor to do what should be done. As I rise with the morning, fog lifting slowly for my mind, I pray not to forget these truths. Yellow flowers remain bright, and white ones become luminous, shining like ghostly figures against a darkening green background. It is a gift to me, a new creation, a promise of resurrection.
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I salute the Sun, the Earth, the Seas, and the Sky. I am thankful for being alive this morning. Thankful for the sleep that has refreshed me. May my hands do the good work. May my eyes see the truth. May I speak compassionately. It's pretty clear that we all have to enjoy the morning sometimes and not expect anything bad to happen, no matter the outcome at the end of each day. This is pretty acceptable for me to read and it's no wonder why I added you as a favorite and friend.
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So, keep up the good work and thanks for sharing this with us and AP. Add to list.
The Morning Dew Scattered on all blades of grass Looking like shiny pearls of glass Dew drops to early morning belong The day is welcomed by bird song. Debbie Brooks - wow..
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I do love it.. The dew drop has shed a tear because it feels sad on account of its separation from the upper regions from which it has come.
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The idea that the sun takes pity upon the sad dew-drop and sends it back to heaven is yet another conceit. Thus, we have a whole series of conceits in the first two stanzas. The poem is metaphysical both by a virtue of its theme which pertains to the soul and by virtue of its conceits.
A dozen times the sense passes from here up to there, and a dozen times from there back to here. See how the sparkling dew-drop, which has fallen from the breast of the Morning into the blossoming roses, remains heedless of its new, but temporary abode. The dew-drop originated in the clear regions of heaven, and its round shape seems to enclose within it the round sphere from where it has come. The dew-drop contains the water of which it is made within its tiny, round shape.
On a Drop of Dew by Andrew Marvell
The dew-drop is scornful of the crimson flower on which it lies. In fact, it seems hardly to touch that flower. On the contrary, the dew-drop keeps looking at the sky wistfully, and shinning with a melancholy light.
In its sad mood it sheds a tear, and that tear is the dew-drop itself. The dew-drop is sad because it has been separated from its heavenly sphere for a long time.
Good Morning Poem, Dew-kissed Morning
The dew-drop feels unsafe in this world; it rolls restlessly; and it trembles with fear lest it should become impure by a continued contact with this world. Ultimately the warm sun takes pity on it in its suffering, and helps it to go back to heaven through the process of evaporation.
The soul, though not visible, remembers always its original abode in heaven and avoids the pleasures and temptations of this world. The soul has memories of its own original brightness and, through its pure thoughts moving in circles, reveals the true heaven through an inferior heaven which is the soul itself. The soul is wound in a very modest figure, and it turns away in every direction.
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