Sunday MOrNin

I awake to the sound of birds singing
and wonder why time seems so slow
why hours pass in slow motion
as I wait to begin the day
and outside the window is a lush green garden
full of the cats meow
and hummingbird wingings
and the mist is hanging heavy today
and the white sky is somehow new
and bright
and I move to walk out into the light
and to feel the green grass
curling and hugging my morning feet
sunday morning
and the living is easy
walk slowly inside to see the clock and feel the motion of time
begin again
but it was in this space between the dreaming and the waking
that I have come home
and in the morning
when I call home
I will always  remember the way
the butterfly tree waxed and waned in the mornig breeze
and the boysenberry vines hung heavy with purple rich berries
and the apple trees were hanging half way over with the weight of morning fruit
pink and green and dusty with sweet
and my heart
seemed to slow down and beat
in rythm with the warm misted soil
of earth below
and walked in tandem with the spell of the dancing wind
to emerge at last at the morning table
paper
and tea
 and journal
ready to greet the morning song
sunday morning has arrived