Tuesday, 25 August 2009

5 am

Sitting up I find myself bathed with golden light from the sunrise. It's cooler this morning, 5 a.m.
Outside my window the skyline is flushed peach and pink and mauve with pockets of heavenly blue. My familiar crow calls to his mate, and the tallest tree behind the house becomes a sentinel, her leaves shimmering in the light breeze. I don't feel well today... early morning is always difficult. I am sitting for a while because I don't want to wake my husband so early. The morning is quiet. It's one of those mornings when calmness pervades. The trees, hardly stir and sunlight paints the leaves until they resemble golden coins. Somewhere nearby a piano plays Chopin.

The morning sings!
And I'm hanging pearls of moonlight
Upon the hooks of stars
Until tonight.