An Instant of Emptiness and Joy

Monday morning in the meadow,
And all the songbirds are singing,
And the day is green and cool still,

And full, as every day is full,
As every moment must be full,
But with that strange, emptied fullness

That is the sweetness before dawn,
With its hollow stomach, hollow
Dome of starless, sunless, rose air

Over the humble human head
That has just lifted from its bed
Of weird dreams to feel fortunate.