This Given Day
by James Crews
These twenty-four hours were granted
to you, offered as a gift the moment
you opened heavy eyes to the blue light
of dawn rinsing every shadow from the room.
True, not all parts of today will feel
worthy of gratitude — perhaps you’ll still
stare in a mirror with a stab of guilt
for the body that does not look back.
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Let that pass. The universe made you
for joy, too, shaped your mouth to smile
even at your own confusion. Sunlight now
dances on the walls with leaf-shadows,
and the table and chairs are both sacred
and plain, and this new day, like a restless
golden retriever, nuzzles at your feet,
begging you to go out, breathe in the world.
James Crews’ work has appeared in The New York Times Magazine, The Sun Magazine, Ploughshares, and The New Republic, as well as on Ted Kooser’s American Life in Poetry newspaper column. He holds an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Wisconsin-Madison and a PhD in Writing & Literature from the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, and is the author of four collections of award-winning poetry, including The Book of What Stays (Prairie Schooner Prize and Foreword Book of the Year Citation, 2011), Telling My Father (Cowles Prize, 2017), Bluebird, and Every Waking Moment. He is also the editor of several anthologies of poetry: Healing the Divide: Poems of Kindness and Connection; and How to Love the World: Poems of Gratitude and Hope. He leads Mindfulness & Writing retreats online and throughout the country, and works as a creative coach with groups and individuals. He lives with his husband, Brad Peacock, in Shaftsbury, Vermont.
*James Crews has given us permission to publish this poem.
