TWENTY SIX : Mornings

Mornings, the mists of the ended dreams,
beckoning, calling from within,
The rain, splattering a million drops
Into the expanse of the world
Awakening, the instant realization of the world around.
The chirping of a sparrow and the wetness of a pet dog’s nose.
The young golden sun drops prancing on the dew covered sand.
Impaling itself on the tender morning glories.
Slowly coming back to the real world,
The screams coming from the yet tired body.
Each moment, movement enticing, inviting,
For another hour’s sleep.