Dust the fog from window sill,
stare out at grey and meet the still
and quiet morning, no sun can offer
light and waking need no stopper,
for dreary day and glittered night
are not a curse nor made in slight
by deity, nor standing thread
of fates, divined, to wish thee dead.
See dark and dreary as a call
to notice rightness in it all.
It need not be what you expect
to greet a day, and make the best.