Morning


The bed is laid down in a four-wall enclosure. Literally! I do not count the ceiling. 

I am not totally awake, but somehow I'm aware of my surroundings and senses. Aware of the wall that separate my bed from a bush with yellow flowers outside. 

As I linger like this,  I hear the birds-- it feels like many, right in the yellow bush. A cluster of  chirping sounds, high pitched, sometimes rare shrills, then many alike, rapidly one after another. Could be just one bird that does everything, not really sure...

It took me years to realize that I hear these birds only at certain times, when it's warm enough, summer or that part of the spring that is already taken over by the coming season...   

Ok, I am fully awake. I will face the new day...

Comments

  1. Când dormi simțurile sunt mai ascuțite. Nici nu realizezi cât de fin e auzul. De aici și visele de dimineața.

    Poezia are ceva din convalescenta in ea.

    DM

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Convalescenta? Nu m-am gandit...Dar recunosc ca unele cuvinte pot sugera asta. Si daca e vorba de convalescenta, e aceea a timpului rece, si pasarile au dat semnalul ca... gata!...lucrurile se vor schimba...

      Delete

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