First Quiet of the Morning
Don’t spend it on the stack of mail, the phone call, the mounting inventory of groceries. Resist the finished wash cycle and the dishes clamoring for clean-up. Ignore the pileup by the front door, the mess left in the wake of the weekend. These things carry the patience and constancy of bedrock. Not the first quiet of the morning. It is thin and needy, hungry for your touch. You will miss it when it goes, siphoning out the way it does, toppled by the weight of all your noisy urgencies, those lists mortaring your day together.
This for you, this sweet and brief emptiness, this desert island, this nest nesting your inevitable flight. Hold your wings still. Don’t go just yet.
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2 Comments
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I share so many of your likes, woohoo❗
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Beautiful poems
So aware of that precious morning time we let slip away so often with the ding of our near by cell phone Let it wait – Let it wait – the sun rising through the early morning misty fog silently beckons us to awareness .
