Reflections of Solitude
I lie awake, listening to the voice of your steady breathing,
finding comfort in such a simple occurrence.
Slowly, so as not to disturb you,
I untangle myself from the covers
and quietly slip out of bed.
Coffee. I anticipate the rich, wondrous aroma as I begin to brew a pot.
Soon, warm mug in hand, I sit in my favorite chair, watching as the day unfolds.
There is a heavy mist, giving a lifeless gray to the black and white hues before the dawn.
I await the happenings soon to come;
while enjoying quiet beginnings.
This is my special time, before the break of day,
before the birds have awakened
and before the rush of everyday living disrupts my thoughts.
I sit, coffee in hand, pen to paper;
enjoying the peaceful quietude of a new day.
The early morning gray is beginning to lighten,
the sun will soon herald its appearance with colors envious of the heavens.
My morning bliss, too soon, will be coming to an end
as others awaken and my day begins.
I pour another cup of the strong black coffee,
the aroma, rich, with just a hint of hazelnut and vanilla, still fresh in the air.
Breathing deeply, hot steam rising from the mug in my hands,
savoring its warmth and enticing aroma.
The sweet melody of songbirds and their morning calls,
while the sun, in all its splendor, peeks through the clouds.
Picture perfect, the mist has ended,
and the flowers are dew kissed and glittering in the new day's sun.
I look down to find that once again my mug is empty.
It is time for my day to begin.