The Light Through The Morning Window Poem by Shalom Freedman

THE LIGHT THROUGH THE MORNING WINDOW

The light through the morning window
The small leaves of the light green tree
The pale sky waiting behind everything
The night which is gone now.

All these failures one after the other,
Other names other destinies, greater than mine
The single singing I cannot hear
The great prophecies I will not realize.

Others who are more to me
Even than I am to myself.

The morning
The morning again
Words again
Trying to live again
A poem again perhaps.

In a life of many days
In which each small day
Its own struggle
And each night
A night which ends
With morning light.