Scott Simpson · Poetry

Before the Day Begins

Relational Landscaping: The Human Terrain of Organizations · source pages 57

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Source page 57

I watch the neighbor step

from his truck, coffee in hand,

before the work starts—

before the hammer’s first strike,

before the saw’s long breath.

He stands a moment

looking at the frame of the house,

as if to remember

why he’s here.

The sun hasn’t yet

burned through the mist.

A sparrow drops

to the wet grass,

finds what it needs.

There’s a quiet in that.

We are beings

before doings,

the still water

before the stone.

Identity precedes the noise

of performance.

Each morning asks

not what we’ll build,

but who we are

when we lift the first nail.