Poetry

Morning meditations

I am lying in bed listening to the early morning risers. Birds chirping in the yard, the rustle of leaves as night inhabitants make their way to bed and morning dwellers take their shift.
The backyard is slowly being transformed as a backyard solace. My heart solace. Away from the busy urban street that we live on.
I have this idea that it will live on it’s own, with a little nudge here and there. Watering carefully and standing back. Parenting is a little like that. Except the frantic pace of adolescence makes for rapid grey hairs and worrisome nights when they come home past their curfew.
Little steps. Baby steps. Breathe. Meditate. Focus on the here and now.

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