Friday, June 21, 2013

When My Inner Life Blossoms

. . . . or why I don't exercise in the morning.


Morning is the quiet time, the time before the world wakes up, 
before I wake up.

It's the bewitching time of my soul, 
when I'm transported ever deeper in peace.

A time that feeds my mind and quickens reflection.

A time for birds and light breezes.

A time for natural stillness, when one has absolutely no desire to move 
but every desire to be aware.

A time for thoughts to run, from the grocery list to 'why creation?'
Surely, the bliss of nothing should have been sufficient.   
Big Bang versus particles floating in a cosmic soup of vibrating energy.
I know which one I would have chosen.

Morning is a time of listening.
To birds, seen and unseen. 
To backyard fountains. 
To distant garbage trucks taking away the excess of our lives.
To rustling leaves assuring us of
a small bit of respite in the growing heat of summer.

It's also a time of noticing.
The hypnotic reflections of my neighbor's pool.
Blossoms slowly uncurling.
Lizards darting and stopping.
Snails going from here to there for some incomprehensible reason 
at an incomprehensible pace.

The joys of suburban living are many and profound.
If a life of vibrating in the cosmic void isn't possible then this will do.
Yes, this suburban life will do very nicely.


3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Come read your poem at Word Gallery. This poem would be perfect for our open mic! We meet every Monday night at 8-9 pm at the Croft Art Gallery on Austin Ave. in Waco.
Sandi

Anonymous said...

Brenda, this is calming, as you are. Laurieanne Tuttle

Karen Crisp said...

Brenda ~ I tried to pick out my favorite line, but I found myself not being able to choose, because every word is pregnant with meaning, wonder and mind-FULL-ness. You are so gifted, and I am grateful to and for you for so many reasons. Thanks for sharing your morning with us in this way, and thank you for your JOY.