This little poem is called "May All Earth be Clothed in Light."
Morning spreads over the beaches like lava.
The waves lie still, they glitter with pieces of light.
I stand at the window and watch a heron
on one leg, its plumage white and the green banks of mint.
Behind me smoke rises from its nest of bricks.
The brass clock from the kitchen shelf judges and stares.
Slowly the bird opens its dazzling wings.
I am filled with joy.
The fields are awake.
The fields with their hidden lizards and fire of new iris.