today...

I was eating breakfast in my kitchen this morning, and this balloon imperiously drifted along past my window and level with it. I'm blase about seeing them now, but this still sent me scampering for my camera.

This morning puts me in mind of this poem, which commands the clearing of the skies and the blooming of the gardens. It always reminds me of my dad when I read it, and of one particular early morning when I was young when, much to my mum's consternation, he rushed into my bedroom when I was still asleep and threw the curtains open to reveal the bluest sky, absolutely thronging with hot air balloons. It took me a while to forgive the rude awakening but I can't imagine many better ways to be woken up.

**

Today

If ever there were a spring day so perfect,
so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

that it made you want to throw
open all the windows in the house

and unlatch the door to the canary's cage,
indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,

a day when the cool brick paths
and the garden bursting with peonies

seemed so etched in sunlight
that you felt like taking

a hammer to the glass paperweight
on the living room end table,

releasing the inhabitants
from their snow-covered cottage

so they could walk out,
holding hands and squinting

into this larger dome of blue and white,
well, today is just that kind of day.


Billy Collins