I try to remember to take
a moment
at the edge of the bed
an intentional inhalation
a mindless mantra
playing at the edges
of my lips
like a snippet
of a Beaties' lyric.
On those days
just after the alarm
and right before a shower
there is a space in between
(A brief breath)
before the day's duties
line up like dominos
all black boxes with
white spots
simply waiting to topple.
From there, I am grateful
I can hear
the sparrow's song
And a soft
stringed instrument
Playing a few
delicate chords
From a
distant lullaby.
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