The ordinary miracles begin. Somewhere
a signal arrives: “Now,” and the rays
come down. A tomorrow has come. Open
your hands, lift them: morning rings
all the doorbells; porches are cells for prayer.
Religion has touched your throat. Not the same now,
you could close your eyes and go on full of light.
William Stafford, Today
This is lovely. I have only recently been introduced to the poetry of William Stafford and Im so pleased I have ‘met’ him!