Trying to begin

Begin by Brendan Kennelly from Staying Alive:  Real Poems for Unreal Times (Bloodaxe Books)
Begin again to the summoning birds
to the sight of light at the window,
begin to the roar of morning traffic
all along Pembroke Road.
Every beginning is a promise
born in light and dying in dark
determination and exaltation of springtime
flowering the way to work.
Begin to the pageant of queuing girls
the arrogant loneliness of swans in the canal
bridges linking the past and the future
old friends passing through with us still.
Begin to the loneliness that cannot end
since it perhaps is what makes us begin,
begin to wonder at unknown faces
at crying birds in the sudden rain
at branches stark in the willing sunlight
at seagulls foraging for bread
at couples sharing a sunny secret
alone together while making good.
Though we live in a world that dreams of ending
that always seems about to give in
something that will not acknowledge conclusion
insists that we forever begin.

I'm trying to begin this morning and in spite of the early morning birdsong, sunlight streaming through the window, and the sound of traffic (and road work) outside, it's requiring more energy than I feel I have today.  I need some serious motivation that I'm not getting from my usual cup of tea and morning meditation, thus today's poem.  Kennelly's words reminds me of David Whyte's Start Close In or Miroslav Holub's The Door.  Maybe a mantra or short found poem comprised of the words of  these three poets is the wisdom I need to inspire me today.

Start close in,

open the door,

begin.