g o l d e n
I’m in love with the desert and Scandinavia all at once.
The blush of sun on stucco.
With golden light caressing the stone.
It creeps into the pale white window through the linen on the frame. Birds rustling in time with the wind.
Earth deeply inhales as all awake.
Ready to begin their paces.
But I just lie in the embrace of morning.
Softly breathing. Slowly waking.
It is such a time to be alive.
At last after my fingers dance with tendrils of light sneaking in, I push aside the cotton coverlet, smelling of pines.
My bare feet awake on contact with the floor and skitter me towards the kitchen for tea.
The kettle singing, launching steam rockets high, a little geyser.
Poured over the jasmine leaves, captivating the room with its essence.
Sitting, pondering, hoping.
Is it all just a lovely dream?
I hope this is real...