The Pulse of the Morning
I love love LOVE New York City in the morning. I am so lucky to live in such an electric, alive, beautiful, quirky city. I left Robert's this morning at 8:00 AM and is absolutely gorgeous outside. I love these brisk but sunny late winter days in Manhattan. Everyone bustles to work, coffee in one hand, New York Times in the other...disappearing into the stairs of the subway and sqeezing themselves into the jumbled mass on the car, hoping not to get trampled underfoot in the process. Joggers sprint through battery park and people walk their dogs and buy croissants from the carts on the street. The sun reflects off the water on the Hudson and the ferry brings businessmen across the water from New Jersey.
It just feels good to wake up next to someone you care about and head off to work happy, embracing the warm sunshine.
From:
ON THE PULSE OF MORNING
Maya Angelou
Here, on the pulse of this fine day
You may have the courage
To look up and out upon me, the
Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.
No less to Midas than the mendicant.
No less to you now than the mastodon then.
Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister's eyes, into
Your brother's face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope
Good morning
It just feels good to wake up next to someone you care about and head off to work happy, embracing the warm sunshine.
From:
ON THE PULSE OF MORNING
Maya Angelou
Here, on the pulse of this fine day
You may have the courage
To look up and out upon me, the
Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.
No less to Midas than the mendicant.
No less to you now than the mastodon then.
Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister's eyes, into
Your brother's face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope
Good morning