I’ve been thinking a lot about mindfulness lately–the practice of being fully in one moment and then the next. This does not come easily to me, especially once the rhythm of the day is underway. I’m generally anticipating and preparing for the next moment rather than experiencing the present one. This weekend I slipped out of bed early and went to greet the morning down at the waterfront. How happy I am that I did! I was able to sit and soak in the beauty of the dawning day, moment by moment. My experience inspired this poem.
The dock’s metal hardware clanked
as the planks bobbed up and down,
swaying on the buoyant water,
adjusting to my steps,
quieting when I sat
to watch and wait
in the early morning hush.
Moment by moment
I eased into
the slow, easy pulse
of this radiant morning.
Fish flipped,
launching from the water,
emerging in brief silvery flashes,
then flopping back into concentric circles
with a small splash.
A heron emerged to perch
on the dock’s edge
before lofting across the water
with mighty beating wings,
to settle on the far bank.
Fog, the visible breath of morning,
wafted over the river,
flirting with its surface,
stirred by invisible currents of air.
A solitary sailboat,
wreathed in mist,
stood sentinel in the distance,
eerie yet serene.
The heron soared again,
alighting on a softly bobbing boat,
facing the east.
The sun edged higher,
brushing the sky
with a rosy blush,
then crowned over the tops
of the shadowy trees,
a fiery orb,
spilling light onto the still waters.
I sat, rapt, at the dock
The heron, on the boat
Together, we watched the birth of the day.
Then the heron took flight,
his wings dipped in sunlight,
skimming over the bay,
heading into the glory of the dawn.
Nix the comfort zone 
Wow. This is gorgeous. Love the photos too!
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You have captured the beauty of the morning not only with your poetry but also with your photography.
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Your post is beautiful and I’m so glad you were so richly rewarded for taking the time to seek stillness in the morning.
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That was beautiful!
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This is a powerful reminder to be mindful, something I find hard to do on a regular baits. Your poem is really beautiful and so are the pictures.
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It’s something I also find difficult, Melissa. I stopped by the dock this morning again before work, hoping to carry that mindfulness into the day. It’s a work in progress!
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The other comments are right; this is a beautiful poem. I loved the idea of “Fog, the visible breath of morning,” Never thought of it that way. Would be just as beautiful without the pictures.
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What a tribute to mindfulness. I am taken in by the power of your pictures matched so beautifully words.
I especially like this line:
“Fog, the visible breath of morning,
wafted over the river,
flirting with its surface,
stirred by invisible currents of air.”
I grew up with foggy mornings. They make me feel at home.
Juileanne
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Thanks, Julieanne. There is something mystical about foggy mornings that helps pull me into a frame of mindfulness.
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