Do not blame the day for what occurs whilst in it
They all begin the same
A gorgeous vessel tinged in apricot and lemon on one side
Mauve and pink on the other
I walk it’s bottom of winding road and waist high swaying grass
Seeds hang heavily, softly they brush my skin as I walk past, scattering to the fecund earth below
I have helped them on their fertile way with my passing
Sleepy crickets call from the depths wondering if they should wake up yet – or go to sleep, I’m not sure which but I’m thinking they are nocturnal
And butterflies, still warming their wings swoop by
Billy buttons bright and yellow, seem too heavy headed for their delicate stems
Purple flowers tumble below, who planted them so neatly? They could appear in a cottage garden
Instead they run riot beside a road
My thoughts begin to race ahead, what’s to come, even though it is too early for the phone to ring and besides, I left it on the bench at home at home
I watch Hogan as he wanders, completely caught up in the moment, I try to hang here too, suspended in the early morning breeze
Like the hawk high above I spread my wings and float, metaphorically at least
Falling deeper into the sound of the earth crunching beneath my feet
I take a deep breath, truly breathe, letting my soul release into a sigh
Sighs are so very relaxing
The minutes tick by, the miles fall behind
And I watch the changing colours in the sky
The rolling paddocks of green
And repeat
“I will not blame this day” for it is never intentionally mean
It is simply a vessel, a cup that we fill and tip out at the end
Only to begin again
Guileless, blameless and guilt free
So instead I will drink from it, deeply
*People bemoan Monday’s. Look forwards to Friday. Have “a terrible day” a “great day”. Days are impartial. We fall into a day, not it into us. Many people do not wake into another day, many won’t ever wake into the potential of another day on earth ever again
We decry and blame the day, yet we choose what we allow into our empty cup. This morning I caught myself throwing junk in the forms of thoughts and plans into my cup even before the sun was up. Here I was in the most beautiful of mornings, tromping along the bottom of a wondrous vessel at the beginning of potential and already I was allowing negativity to pollute its peacefulness.
I like the thought of a day as a cup. I like the idea that I can be suspended within a space and choose what I allow in there with me. Yes, there is much that is out of our control. But just as I decide what to fill my glass with when I am thirsty, I choose (largely) what to fill my day with. And what to leave out.
It’s Monday, a day that has a lot of negative memes attached to it. But it is also a day. What a blessing to have a day. May it be what you make it. 💕

A gorgeous poem, Kate. And I love the thought of being able to choose what to fill our cup with. I don’t think I’ll forget that. ☕️
I hope I don’t forget it. It’s so easy to blame the day but then that personalises it, and it feels like an attack which pokes my inner victim to cry “why me” I prefer to wander along in my “cup” quickly tipping out anything that doesn’t belong there as soon as I realise it is there 😊
Guess we all just gotta be careful what we let slip in there. 🙂 Kind of reminds me of this childrens book which happens to be one of my favorite ones.
Have You Filled a Bucket Today?: A Guide to Daily Happiness for Kids (Bucketfilling Books) https://www.amazon.com/dp/099609993X/ref=cm_sw_r_awdo_navT_a_T7P0RF4711BRHTRPHFEM
Lovely idea for a children a book, I’ll have to check it out.
It really is… it leaves a positive message with anyone who reads it.
Most lovely and inspirational poem with positive thoughts.gorgeous,my dear!!xxxx
😊