Concerning the morning, I'd sleep right on through
and not ever see it or drink in the dew
but for some awesome reason I cannot explain
my eyes fluttered open without any strain
and in the position I happened to lie
I could look up and take in clearest blue sky
the window was open, the sweet smell of spring
floats on the breeze while the birds sweetly sing
I could easily remain here and let myself drift
but something inside calls for more of this gift
I pull myself out of that place of soft warming
and sit on the edge of clear consciousness forming
Still in my flannels I pull on a sweater
slip into my clogs and now feeling much better
slide open the door and slip out to the deck
these six-packs need planting, I say, what the heck
dig into cool dirt, without much of a care
and plant my petunias in the flower box there
I let my mind rest as I breathe in fresh air
the rising sun filters through forests back there
I remember the 'red sky at dawn' weather warning
and ponder the beauty concerning the morning.