Listen to the sounds of nature in your world—the swoosh of leaves, the bend of branches. Stop and listen, even if you are in a parking lot or on a city street. There’s beauty everywhere, calling to you.
Morning birds, let me hear you.
Morning birds, you, too, must know God,
because you begin to call out
the precise moment that night tips toward day.
You’re the first to declare the end of the darkness has begun.
Morning birds, I can’t always see you there, but you connect everything
with your songs, reminding us how we are together in this world.
Morning birds, you sing for us all—the raindrops beginning to tap upon the window,
the underside of leaves swishing, flipping open in the wind.
Today before checking your email, your phone, and connecting with the outer world, start your day noticing the simple, nearby joys already here.