Another Glorious Morning

I admit it, I am one of those people. The ones that wake up early even on weekends – on purpose. I am ready to tackle the day after my first cup of coffee. I revel in the serenity the birth of a new day brings. I watch sunrises with a thankful heart for new chances and a clean slate. I can’t wait to wake up and know that yesterday is gone with all it’s sorrows, trouble and frustrations. Maybe if you saw a few of these every other morning you could become a morning person too. Maybe not. But this is (besides my family of course) what keeps me going, a clean slate written all over the sky and embodied in the jeweled grasses early everyday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Good Morning!

I wrote the following poem after seeing a beautiful picture on a tissue box, of all places. I was a little depressed going from a house and 20 acres to an apartment and to add to my feeling of isolation, it was winter. I had a longing to have our own place again. There is a sense of freedom that becomes embedded in your soul when you own the ground you live on and I was missing that freedom. After we finally moved into our new place I cried when I was able to watch the sunrise again, a luxury I took for granted at our old house.

The picture is an old one taken a couple years ago on my way to work. It was fitting for the poem.

I long for a golden morning
When the sunlight reaches out
Across the hills and hollows
To touch our sleepy house

The dew kissed scarlet roses,
The Maple’s emerald hue
And flowers lift their heads
To greet the day anew.

I long for a golden morning
When winter’s icy grasp
Has long since gone away
And grows the lovely grass.

I long to wake beside you
Light streaming through the pane.
The sound of children’s laughter,
Stirring from their sleep, ready to play.

I long for a golden morning
When at last I shall say,
Here’s my golden morning
to start the perfect day.