The morning-glory, wet with the night rain,
Swinging its sapphire bells against the pane,
Chimes: ‘Wake! The day is here!
Wake, dreamer, to this miracle new-born-
A burst of melody and light devine
Fair as the fair first morn
Wherein God syllabled earth’s golden sphere.
Behold thy treasure shine,
A jewel to adorn
Eternity, from countless aeons wrought!
This gift, inestimable, which swift time
Holds out to thee, take thou, and make sublime;
Tomorrow is not, yesterday is not,
Today alone is-and today is thine! ’

More verses by Ina D. Coolbrith