Posts tagged #Morning

repetition (n).

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I am a creature of habit,
my morning this morning looked
like the morning before it, rising
with a whimper and shuffling
to the kitchen for the holy
coffee ritual – portioned with
the same spoon, I place the
same mug as I hum with the
sacred silver kettle.

I return often to the
same places, the bench in
the park where once we watched
a midnight bike parade, and returned
again after I finished my weekend shift
and again to read to each other
from the book I have read
already through, four times.

I echo often the same
songs that spoke to me
(I think maybe they were
written for me alone), these
songs I put on while I write,
or sit at home, or hurry
down to the bus stop.

I want to be in the habit of
finding new ways to
see the beauty in
even the quietest day.  

circadian (adj).

I will show you what rising looks like;
I have studied each morning when
I wake before the daytime,
when I wake, sometimes, before
friends near the pacific
have even said goodnight.

I have taken note and have seen
the way the light comes to us
in arch and swinging, on time and
without worry of filling too much space,
and so in this way I have learned to rise.

With the sun I rise in these ways:
hot to touch, blistering if not warned,
pouring in like I pour honey
heavy and golden
into this morning’s tea -

here I learned to rise,
heart full and heart swoon
gathering my lover’s hands in mine -
here, let me warm you -
I will fill our room with light
when all else feels too grim
to open wide our eyes.

study (v).

In the morning when we start to wake
I trace your outline with my hands
like when we were kids, we learned to draw like that. 
I am taking note
of the spine that holds you up
and the skin that holds you in
of the map of the lines of your brow
and the purse of your lips when you look at the clock.

And then, my head on your ribcage
your heart in my ear
and all the way through me.
We learn to feel, like that.