Stillness is the language God speaks, and everything else is a bad translation.
- Source unknown
On my walk to work one morning last week, the air was very crisp, as the thermometer had dipped overnight to -21C. At that early hour the shadows of the night were quietly surrendering to the first rays of morning light. The snow beneath my feet crunched loudly as if to complain about my striding intrusion. Foamy pillars of steam or smoke, escaping from the vents or chimneys of nearby houses, seemed frozen in the frigid air on their reluctant flight to the lower atmosphere. Far away on the horizon, the sky was pleasantly punctured with what looked like fronds of crimson and gold. The further I got to my destination; these celestial presages of a glorious day became more luminous. With each fleeting glance in their direction, it seemed as if they desired to garner my attention from my myriad thoughts to their marvellous display.
Yes, the early morning hours are my favourite time of the day. It's something about breathing that fresh morning air and the feeling of excitement about just getting on with the tasks ahead of me. Do you feel that same sense of exhilaration at the dawning of each new day? Do you tingle with excitement in anticipation of the serendipitous discoveries waiting around the corner on your day's journey?
Speaking of serendipitous, I wrote a poem once called "Serendipity Calling". As a matter of fact, I put that poem on my Grade 7 Language Arts test for this week. We've been studying some of the poetic devices like metaphor and alliteration, so I thought I'd include a few questions on my poem to test the students' understanding. Here's the first verse of the poem:
A poem is a capsule,
And to look inside -
Tiny treasures of thoughts
Therein reside.
I mention that poem because I liken the message contained in the first verse to the perspective that each new day brings if we've adopted an attitude of gratitude, and if we've relished the special moments throughout our day. A day is really a tiny capsule of our life. It's a twenty-four hour time period to mine the precious gems from the quarry called our life.
It's interesting - the unit we're doing in Grade 7 Language Arts is called "Look Closely." One of the questions I've posed on my poem is: How does this poem fit in with the theme of the unit? With a slight variation, maybe that's a question we should all ask ourselves at the end of each day. Perhaps we should ask ourselves: How has our day fit in with, or measured up against, the positive outlook that we had when we got out of bed? (I'm assuming you're the kind of person that looks out your bedroom window in the morning and says: "Good morning, Lord," as opposed to someone who might say, "Good Lord, it's morning!" Then, if our sense is that there's something lacking in that regard, the next question that should immediately enter our mind is - What can I do tomorrow to tip the scale of gratitude and enjoyment in my favour?
Okay, I hear you. You'd like to read the rest of the poem! (Yes, I know, I can be a little presumptuous at times!) Here are the last two verses:
Each speck of wisdom,
Which careful analysis reveals,
The soft caressing of words,
Soothing the sores life sometimes deals.
The flow of each line,
And the rhythm of each verse,
Brings a sigh at conclusion,
As the capsule does burst.
Leonard Quilty is a teacher with the Centre for Learning@Home in Okotoks, Alta. He can be reached by e-mail at [email protected]
