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 Morning Tradition
Awakening to alertness quietly, my eyes are still closed;
Feeling the sun tickle my face, my thoughts become composed.
Stretching, taking three deep breathes, I climb outta bed;
Down the hall to wash my face, brush my teeth, and use the head.
I look into my eyes to awaken the Fred that resides within;
To the kitchen to start a pot of coffee; now let the day begin.
Down to the basement, I climb on the scales to check my weight;
The coffee's aroma fills the house, my eyes delightfully dilate.
Returning to the kitchen, waiting as the coffee finishes brewing;
Looking out the window at the squirrels; nuts they are chewing.
Now finished perking, I pour me a cup of Joe and smile inside;
I take in the aroma, then take a sip; now ready to hit my stride.
I sign on my computer to check my mail and drink that first mug;
Then I write a few words to a dear friend, sending her a verbal hug.
Body and breath are now one, my mind is ready to begin the day;
I sit in the floor with Quest to meditate, my heart begins to pray.
I spend twenty minutes in silence, searching my heart's motives;
Energy surges throughout me; more powerful than locomotives.
From sleeping rest to alertness, complete is now my transition;
I am in sync with the rhythm of my life, it just my morning tradition.
14Nov10
Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades
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