will there really be a morning?

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Will there really be a "Morning"?
Is there such a thing as "Day"?
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they?

Has it feet like Water lilies?
Has it feathers like a Bird?
Is it brought from famous countries
Of which I have never heard?

Oh some Scholar! Oh some Sailor!
Oh some Wise Men from the skies!
Please to tell a little Pilgrim
Where the place called "Morning" lies!


—Emily Dickinson

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Outside, the freezing desert night.
This other night grows warm, kindling.
Let the landscape be covered with thorny crust.
We have a soft garden here.

The continents blasted, cities and little towns,
everything become a scorched blacked ball.

The news we hear is full of grief for that future,
but the real news inside here is 
there is no news at all.


—Rumi

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