Wake in the morning

arms stretch up to the sky

and down to the earth.

Light is invited,

and in a single breath,

light arrives,

an eager friend

illuminating all.

Praise to the light,

praise to the dark,

arriving and leaving,

as with breath,

as with all--

death is a friend,

life is a friend--

illumined by light,

is there even a difference?

Yes, of course, love appears to fly away

when breath ceases,

but love always returns full circle--

this, this is the promise

of the starry night

and the rising sun,

this, this, is the opening of joy.