Again this morning
the invitation to be soft,
to notice how when we wake,
the cage of thorns that sprang up
yesterday is not now here.
It takes only just one thought of blame
or righteousness, and the thorns
return in all their ferocity
and brandish their barbs,
and flaunt their hooks,
but there is this moment
when we can simply notice
how soft we are, how vulnerable,
and choose to stay that way,
and a moment later, choose again,
oh, the morning, it smells like freedom.