Day 82: Today

Okay, it may not be a Tuesday as it is in this poem, but the same applies. Every day is the only day. Even if it is overcast and damp, when the world appears to have a 'heavy, low-hung ceiling.' 

Let us make the most of them anyway: inquisitive, eager, enthusiastic and open to learn.
(I wish I had came across this poem yesterday!)  


The Only Day in Existence - Billy Collins

The early sun is so pale and shadowy,
I could be looking up at a ghost
in the shape of a window,
a tall, rectangular spirit
looking down at me in bed,
about to demand that I avenge
the murder of my father.
But the morning light is only the first line
in the play of this day--
the only day in existence--
the opening chord of its long song,
or think of what is permeating
the thin bedroom curtains

as the beginning of a lecture
I will listen to until it is dark,
a curious student in a V-neck sweater,
angled into the wooden chair of his life,
ready with notebook and a chewed-up pencil,
quiet as a goldfish in winter,
serious as a compass at sea,
eager to absorb whatever lesson
this damp, overcast Tuesday
has to teach me,
here in the spacious classroom of the world
with its long walls of glass,
its heavy, low-hung ceiling.