The Mist in Morning
Let everyone on earth who is alone now
reading, sleeping, sitting in small rooms
alone and meditating,
cutting wood, walking desperately through
dark nights
Let everyone alone and praying
Let everyone alone and grieving
Let everyone alone
Let everyone contained and pure
in solitude know — Know
That in the early morning hours
all the prayers of solitaries
rise vibrating out of the dim earth,
not like birds but like
the deepest voice of earth itself
Rise out of the tangled grasses
of individual living
the way the mist does in the morning —
softly, surely,
Reclaiming and replenishing heaven.
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Barbara LaMorticella lives in the woods outside Portland, Oregon, and hosts a poetry program on KBOO radio. She’s been a finalist for the Oregon Book Award and a recipient of the Stewart Holbrook award for outstanding contribution to Oregon Literary Arts. A retired medical transcriber, she’s performs her work widely and is working on her third collection of poems.
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Lovely, lovely poem.
Thank you for the good words friend.
Barbara, The 2nd stanza gets me in the heart by the third line, Let everyone alone, I feel it so strong. This is a powerful poem. Thank you.
Wonderful.