I wake on an unextraordinary weekday,
light as air,
full of posture,
breathing freely. Stretched
Take in the darkness of the morning,
the fur of my dog,
the cold foot/warm foot paradox,
the shuffling of socked feet on tiles a floor below. Kick
out a leg from under the covers, place
my hands on my stomach,
my neck. I am present. I am waking.
can be as simple
as waking up
and realizing your present self
deserves a moment
Living is not always so easy.
Living is sometimes a night too whispered,
a book too boring, a hand too callused.
But when it is light,
it is everything.