Morning comes and the calm of night is brushed off with a moment of chaos – the dogs wrestle and shake and sneeze, as if fighting off the effects of slumber.
I am not as excited to rise early, have no routine for resetting my status from comatose to awake and alert. I mumble on my way down the hall and across the living room to let them out for their morning constitutionals.
We all pause as the cold air hits us. The dogs raise their noses in unison, sniffing the unmistakeable scent of Spring in the air. Birdsong confirms their suspicion. My spirits perk up.
Chaos is descending upon the world, but for this moment, I am reminded that tomorrow always comes.
Thank you to all who participated in my challenge this week, topic morning. I am also connecting up with Lens-Artist’s Photo Challenge: chaos.
There is something so undeniably sacred about mornings. Check out these great posts to see if you don’t agree:
“You do more in a morning than some people do in two weeks,” a graphologist once told me, having analyzed my handwriting.
It was not news to me. I was raised to be a morning person. Waking before the rest of the family and getting ahead of the day was my way. Until I got sick, that is. Then everything changed. Mornings became impossible and nights sleepless.
The addition of dogs to our family has forced me to be a morning person again. Eager yips wake me before seven, and the demands are real. My body is having a hard time complying. I am ready to nap within an hour of waking, and I need several rests throughout the day. My mind, however; is liking the shift.
I have plans for mornings, like to catch a sunset, or write for an hour before having breakfast, or sketching, or….
What do mornings mean to you? Create a post – be it poem, prose, photography, or other – and drop a link in the comments below, or try a pingback (they are unreliable lately).
The grass is always greener – magnificent cliches carry on – the writing on the wall, a little bird told me in the nick of time, don’t cry over spilled milk – Is it cliché to say muddied waters – me over the edge?
Thank you all for keeping me entertained with your creativity. My poem is compliments of your gifted responses. Here are all contributions (let me know if I missed someone):