Morning Bells Poem by Peter Black

Morning bells, and all around we awoke
To find the grasses wet and sky white whey
Among the haze of late night fog: is stripped,
Opened up heavy when sun's eyelids lift;
Start the fire from the evening coal,
Blow the ember, warm the bowl of the world,
And crack an egg or two for breakfast's sake,
Spill yolk gold horizon on heaven's plate,
In other houses we hear people move
For what is possible in this new day.