Jane Kenyon Under The Oak

I wake up early each morning and take my coffee and a book out to the cedar bench under a huge oak tree (the one with the well).  The birds sing, there's a breeze and the air is cool in the morning.  I look at the garden which grows in this drought ridden terrain filled with our new found steel blue agaves.  A daughter returns from a far away place, a husband awakens and is happy to get coffee before he plays tennis.  I always offer  him freshly cut up  fruit before he leaves (that he's not so happy about but he complies).  Reed bicycles by with his "morning ma'm" and we chat about his trip back to Midland for his ailing Mom.  I read the Collected Poems of Jane Kenyon whose voice is American and talks of life, death, birds, flowers, religion and the people I encounter everyday.  I never imagined  that my life could be so filled with beauty and contentment.  Amen.