Thou art the freshness of a new beginning,
the first breath of a flawless day.



This morning on the porch
I breath in clear, sub-zero air,
soak in the early sun reflecting bronze
upon mountain snow.

A sip of hot coffee reminds me
that warmth is possible.
Witnessing the birth of today,
replete with promise,

I sigh in wonder at the gifts of grace
that will unfold between the blanketing
of dawn and dusk. Will plans be shattered
only to birth new and better gifts,

moments of pain, of joy?
Will the world heave a sigh,
continue to destroy her beauty,
succumb to the allure of greed

and hatred? Or will, perhaps,
a child be born within us—
a child to touch and heal?
That power lies within.

Today, another day to breathe,
to re-create, and to await
the fullness of the Gift. I turn
and enter, once again, incarnate.

In Judaism, each letter of the Aleph Beit (Alphabet) holds the power to create. Aleph, the first letter, is not sounded. It is, rather, a sigh, the first breath uttered before a word.

aleph journal

The brief quote at the beginning of this poem is a mantra I use from time to time. I paraphrased it from reading I did about the Aleph.

I’m linking this to Gay’s prompt for dVerse Meeting the Bar, where the prompt is to write a Birthday Poem. Stop on over and enjoy more on the subject.