The first chirps of the waking birds mark the “pont vierge” of the dawn

under a sky as yet without real light, 

a moment of awe and inexpressible innocence,

when the One in perfect silence opens their eyes,

They speak to the One, not with fluent song, 

but with an awakening question,

that is their dawn state.

Their condition asks if it is time for them to “be?”

She answers, “Yes.”

They they one by one wake up, and become birds.

They manifest themselves as birds, beginning to sing.

Presently they will be fully themselves, and even will fly.

Meanwhile, the most wonderful moment of the day is that when creation 

in its innocence asks permission to “be” once again.

as it did on the first morning that ever was.

All wisdom seeks to collect and manifest itself

at that blind sweet point

Human wisdom does not succeed,

for we have fallen into self mastery and cannot ask 

permission of anyone.

We face our mornings as people of undaunted purpose.

We know the time and dictate the terms.

We know what time is.

For the birds there is not a time that they tell,

but the virgin point between darkness and light,

Between being and nonbeing.

So they wake up: first the catbirds and cardinal.

Later the song sparrows and wrens.

Last of all the doves and the crows.

Here is an unspeakable secret: paradise is all around us

and we do not understand.

It is wide open. The sword is taken away,

but we do not know it:

we are off “one to her farm and another

to his merchandise.”

Lights on. Clocks ticking. Thermostats working. Stoves cooking. 

Electrive shavers filling radios with static.

Wisdom,” cries the dawn, but we do not attend.

Thomas Merton