Reflection on a moment - Morning

Over the weekend - an atypical one for me - I woke early as usual. But instead of the mad dash to the gym which has become my habitual rhythm, I lingered. Savoring the unrolling of morning hours and appreciating the vagaries of Bay Area weather, I let the enchantment drift over me. Fog shrouded all in sight for some time, and then the bright beacon of sun washed away the gray and filled the world with resplendence. I opened the windows in the living room and kitchen and was greeted by a myriad of sounds - birds trilling, insects buzzing and brisk breezes rattling my blinds. It was a quiet miracle, almost surreal in a way and reminiscent of Monet; the Muse whispered inspiration in my ears:

Morning

Whether hurriedly hectic,
consumed in a flurry,
or leisurely paced,
careful, caressing
it is the stage
upon which we enter,
initiate our performance,
and start inexorably
the act we call life

Whether a wobbly, tippling sun,
shaking off flushed excesses
spent in night-time revelry,
or a cloud-strewn, hazy sky,
bracing the trade winds
welcoming equatorial rain
it is the point of emergence
an unfolding of flowers
harbinger of cricket song
the metronome of day

Whether a kitten's plaintive mewl
for milk to break it's fast
or a baby's peevish whine
for mother's warmth and suckling
it is the rebirth of our hopes
proof that nothing is static
change ever-present and continuous
each experience a doorway