This poem by Mary Oliver pretty much describes my morning:
The clouds did not say soon, but who can tell for sure,
it wasn't the first time I had been fooled; the sky-doors opened and the rain began
to fall upon all of us: the grass, the leaves, my face, my shoulders,
and the flowered body of the pond where it made its soft unnotational music
on the pond's springy surface, and then, the birds joined in and I too felt called toward such throat praise.
Well, the whole afternoon went on that way until I thought I could feel the almost born things
in the earth rejoicing.
As for myself, I just kept walking, thinking:
once more I am grateful to be present.
(From Evidence, a book of poems by Mary Oliver that my children gave me for my 50th birthday)
I try to read poems often, and I especially enjoy poems that I can understand, that I can read without working too hard. I find they often speak to my soul in ways that other types of writing can't.
I especially love Mary Oliver's poems, and I enjoy a book of poems that Garrison Keillor edited, simply entitled Good Poems.
Give poems a try! You just might like them!