Dawn is approaching, 6 AM,
Zack is pacing, growing impatient,
I hobble out of bed to let him out,
It’s nice out here,
I should have coffee on the porch,
I tuck this away, go inside and lock the door.
But this morning is different,
I needn’t be so mechanical,
Cup in hand as I enter into the predawn chill,
My four-legged friend at my side,
He’s amazed and excited,
I’m not telling him to go back to bed.
I bathe in the stillness, only dawns light is moving,
The familiar cadence of crickets in the distance,
Birds are calling out, they want breakfast too,
Flowers are starting to bloom in spring colors,
As a blanket of stars smile down in silence,
The world is in the raw,
Before it becomes what we think it should be.
I hear a car horn breaking the spell,
The voice of Gram whispers,
“The moon and stars are going to bed now”,
The magic is going, going, gone.
I must do this again,
But why only on the porch in the dark,
I see the cats sitting on the window sill,
In silence like meditating Buddha’s,
They know, they always have,
As sure as the sun is rising,
The secret is not in the doing,
It’s in the being.
*Photo courtesy of Pixabay
*First published in April 2015