(To see my reading of this poem, check out this Facebook link here)
The morning light is soothing, is it not?
When I awaken from my dreams
the bedding around me
is rumpled and warm.
I stretch, my back cracking
as I arch it, mouth agape in a yawn.
I walk out into my living room
looking for her.
No, the sun has not yet joined the day.
The morning light will come
as long as I keep my eyes open to see;
as long as I welcome her;
as long as I remember she is there
not only for me
but for the sake of the world.
I fix a cup of coffee
watching the steam lovingly
as it slow dances from the grounds.
I pour my greens into a bowl
the way others pour their cereal;
A drizzle of oil and sea salt
The writing desk on the east side
of my apartment
looks out at the neighbors,
a pink glow in their window.
My cat, limbs long and sleepy,
splays out on his perch
watching the dark slowly lift,
washing his face as is routine.
My lips turn upward in that smile.
If you know me, then you know the one:
that glittered eye, playful lip, the lifted cheeks.
Yeah, that smile.
The sun belongs to the world
but my morning
my morning belongs