Awake in the soft hours of the morning
I walk barefoot across the cool wood floor
I slow down the thoughts so busy forming
And listen to the stillness in my core
I stand at the window looking aloft
The air is silken gray and pearly white
The clouds hover low and full, winter soft.
I breathe in the morning, drink in the light.
My reverie dissipates like lake-mist
As practical considerations rise
Not ready to tackle the to-do list
But ready for children with sleepy eyes
We will fill this day more than weather
We’ll tell stories, sing, and laugh together.