Sunday Morning

Awake early with stiffness,
having been made a contortionist
by a small dog taking up half my side of the bed,
I find opportunity.
He sleeps
and I am free from feeling the need to be near him –
to comfort,
to care for,
to be present
as I am gone for so much of the time
for work and other obligations.
I wash dishes and feed the little bed-stealing dog
who will soon lie on the landing back in dreamland.
I see the teetering stack of mail that needs sorting
and the cobweb in the windowsill
but it is the dust dancing in a shaft of sunlight
that stops the endless list of things to do from binding tightly around my brain.
I check on my mate – still sleeping peacefully
then make the choice to sit,
to catch up with kindred spirits
but connected magically through caring and computers.
I choose to read,
to write,
to listen to the promise of a quiet Sunday morning.


Anonymous said...

This sounds lovely. Absolutely lovely.
I hope your Thanksgiving is just as peaceful and blessed.

All thru Him,

Anonymous said...

Beautiful glimpse of your Sunday morning. Peace and calm are perfect places to start the day. Your writing is fluid and I could see your place, while wandering from one room to the other.
Have a blessed week-end Lettie and never stop to write, your words are too true and powerful to die.

Unknown said...

One of the things that I love about your writing is that I can feel what you are feeling. I can feel the calm at the end. Thank you for posting.

A Promise Kept

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