A Morning Song

It’s that moment of the day … right after day break … when the natural light in the bedroom is set to dim … and the World is held at bay by Mother Nature, creating a blanket of undisturbed Calm fashioned only for me.

For an unspecified time, as long as I can allow, there is harmony between the senses, between body and air. Head on pillows. Arms above my head. Looking up at the ceiling fan, the only noise in the room.

At my greediest I wish every waking hour was like this. And by the feel of my long amber hair, with sections inexplicably going in directions that seem neither north, south, east or west, I mind it not.

I relish that this is the start of my Saturday.

I could move into the next room. I could make a hot cuppa. I could have thoughts about the dishes in the sink. I could turn off the front porch light, an indicator that the night is truly a thing of the past.

Instead. I think I shall indulge this moment a bit longer, and stay in this cloud-like space that knows no time.

It’s a gift. Wrapped in brown paper packaging. Tied up with string …

A morning, that is a few of my favourite things.

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