The poem by Henry David Thoreau suggests that there are mornings when the world begins anew. A delightfully fresh piece, as bright as a new day, it could make an interesting companion piece to one of the many pieces available about evenings.
There are, from time to time,
mornings both in summer and winter:
mornings when especially the world seems to begin anew.
The world has been recreated in the night:
mornings of creation,
It is the poet’s hour.
Mornings when are newborn,
we who have the seeds of life in us.
by Henry David Thoreau,
adapted from Journals, 1853