The
evening
hours are when
I begin to
plan some needed joy
for the next new morning.
A surprise breakfast perhaps?
A juicy love note tucked inside
my lover’s lunch tote filled with goodies?
He might not even want to go to work!
slow awakening
inhaling reality
turning inside out
A yawn escapes my body.
I choose to wriggle in the sheets a little more snugly.
But my mind stirs with thoughts. It determines not to go back into that density absent of light.
Slowly my consciousness moves into the direction of the rays.
The ceiling fan gives me my first instruction of the day.
Stretch!
I do, and a smile renders me awake.
I Write Her 