Hymn to Morning
The first bird spoke
and broke open dawn's
bright shell. It inquired of the day
and its pleasures, sent its jubilation
out over the back of cold night's retreat.
Listening, still, I lay folded,
wrapped in the warmth of this soft,
wingless body's radiance--amazed
at its exquisite meld of form and emptiness,
emptiness and form giving forth
then gathering in the gifts:
eye, mouth, ear, nose, touch,
all arising and ceasing
on the inhalation and exhalation
of one bird's call
and each note succeeding
it as, one by one, others
caught the song, bore it
and the day, unfurling, shining, aloft.
Rochelle Arellano's work has been published in The Homestead Review, The Monterey Poetry Review, The Bathyspheric Review, and in A Bird Black as the Sun: California Poets on Crows and Ravens. She has recently relocated to Wisconsin from Albuquerque, New Mexico. She enjoys hiking, poetry, and quilting.