The Quiet Moments
If morning is a promise of light, if they are right,
I should be quite well-positioned, no fight.
I have my coffee in the red cup, something jazz, and maybe something to write.
A black cut curls by me, searching for the might.
In this hour, all feels right.
The fireplace flickers, a cozy glow, pages turn softly, words start to flow.
I water the flowers, tranquility begins to grow.
The time is quiet, the heart feels bright
In this moment, I listen to the light.
I've taken my vitamins, but I havent's said my prayers.
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