The New Sunrise

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

The morning comes in a quiet gray dawn. I miss the sun greeting my eyes as he rises, I miss the shadows cast upon the walls over my bed. This Daylight Savings time always irks me a bit. I am not sure why. Perhaps because I wake with the sun and now I must wait until the tea water is bubbling in the kettle to see the first pink rays. I should be grateful to see it all, to be blessed with sight, inside and out. 

The birds are chattering loudly this morning as they streak across the periwinkle sky, maybe they are irked too. I know I will get over it soon, I just liked the way things were, I liked the tilt of my head as I gazed at the birth of a new day, just a slight lift from my pillow. Now, I am up and about and am forced to peer through the cottage's wee windows as our morning preparations are done.

I am a lucky one, indeed. For I see.

Buttering the Sky


On my shoes,

Boiling water,

Toasting bread,

Buttering the sky:

That should be enough contact

With God in one day

To make anyone