Sunrise

Every day 
is a little resurrection. 
Every day 
is a newborn phoenix. 
We awaken in the ashes 
of the previous day’s dream
or grief. A morning ritual – 
face and hands washed
with prayer – clarifies boundaries.
Open your heart.
Release yesterday’s bones.
Offer each day
an armful of wild roses,
the prick of thorns.
 All you need carry forward
is the memory of petals,
the feral tracks of wonder
on your skin.