At night, the crush of the day hovers in my room. Did I act rightly? Was it enough?
Behind my door, regrets pile up.
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Dawn comes and I walk. The land has transformed and the spreading day provides new views. At night I peered into corners. At dawn my eyes fall on unfurling buds, on dewy grass, on the coursing river.
Later at home, I can bring a new view to my cares. The solutions present themselves. Is this what Providence feels like?
My walk has changed the subject.
– from the mountain
Consider:
If I am troubled, would a walk do me good?
Reading:
Morning without you is a dwindled dawn.” — Emily Dickinson
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“Morning is when I am awake and there is a dawn in me.” — Henry David Thoreau
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“It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.” — Lamentations 3:22–23 (KJV)
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