Monday, May 02, 2016

Morning Poem

Every morning I sit with a coffee looking over the garden. I wonder about the clouds and what the day will bring.

I wonder how much it rained last night to see water on the porch.
I wonder why the stone placed on the drainage grill has moved to the corner, does it mean the monitor lizard I was trying to defend against has emerged and is wondering around the house somewhere maybe about to bite me.

I try to understand how the tiny and superbright flowers close up every afternoon and reemerge every morning.

As I've already flicked through the news stories on my bright screen mobile lying in bed I realise how lucky I am to have such a peaceful place I can call home that's beyond politics crime hate injustice.

So as I slowly sip away the last ever more gritty coffee, I feel drawn away from this beautiful natural plant and flower populated scape.

Fifteen minutes ago I left the world downloading behind me. I know when this coffee is finished I'll return to my office for another fifty email marathon.

With one last time I look at the most and greenest of green, then lift my empty mug and say I will be back here tomorrow morning for another sleepy wondering.