Simon, a month after he came to the farm.

“Little is to be expected of that day, if it can be called a day, to which we are not awakened by our Genius, but by the mechanical nudgings of some servitor, are not awakened by our own newly-acquired force and aspirations from within, accompanied by the undulations of celestial music, instead of factory bells, and a fragrance  filling the air – to a higher life than we fell asleep from; and thus the darkness bear its fruit, and prove itself to be good, no less than the light. That man who does not believe tht each day contains an earlier, more sacred, and auroral hour than he has yet profaned, has despaired of life, and is pursuing a descending and darkening way.”

Henry David Thoreau, Walden

In the morning, I hear the celestial music,

and the darkness bears its fruit,

which is the light, and the promise of the day,

and my affirmation of it.

That I will be good,

and seek to learn love,

and seek the color

and the light of the world

and answer the creative spark,

and tell my story,

and listen to the call of life,

and kneel before it,

every day.