Old Poetry Old Poetry Poetry • Poets • Essays • Forums •

Here Is This Day

Here is this day,

Across the fields of darkness softly come

Into my silent room,

In the old way;

Stir on the sill and light along the wall,

And scent of early dew;

As old as time, yet new

And fresh and fair as the first day of all.



This is my own.

Tomorrow waits, and yesterday is gone;

But lovely, here and now,

With lifting wind and light on leaf and bough,

Flutter of flower and stir of wakened wing,

New hope, new opportunity, new power,

Bright stuff for me to fashion, hour by hour,

In my own way—

Here is this day.

Leave a guest comment (subject to review)

    : Comment:

    Name: (required)
    Email: (required, hidden from spam)

Comments

  • mermaid7
    August 5, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    Lots of wisdom in this poem. "New hope, new opportunity, new power,/Bright stuff for me to fashion, hour by hours, /In my own way -/Here is this day". Wow, when depondant waves hit, this poem helps to quelch. "As old as time, yet new" really captures (to me) the idea that nothing is new under the sun, and yet each day is a new day; how we chose to handle it is our choice.
    Know someone that is down and out? Why not send them a copy of this poem.