Early Morning Musings

No clear, original thought --

Nor even muddled, stale one.

How does one work through mist and fog?

I am weary, sleepy, achy,

With pen too heavy to lift.

Each eyelash weighs at least a pound.

Two or three mundane thoughts

Play indoor tag,

Ignoring my demand for discipline.

Should I succumb to pillow’s siren call?

Should I wrest control of my (ersatz) mind?

Perhaps .. Perhaps coffee will rouse

Reluctant grey cells.

Coffeepot in hand, water running …

Will coordination last long enough

to fill reservoir?

Without spilling?

Decisions, decisions … How much?

By default, “How much can the pot brew?”

Head bowed, arms braced on counter,

I listen to urgent burbling.

Bleary eyes stare … “Up to there”

When black reaches imaginary line,

I grip handle, pull forward.

Thank God, there’s automatic “hold.”

No three towels needed to sop an uninterrupted stream.

Oversize mug at the ready,

Both hands steadying the pot,

I pour that first cup.

Ahhhh --- nectar of the gods!

A few more sips and even my inner muse might waken.

Boot up computer.

Check today’s “to do” list.

Now then, which job shall I tackle first?

Count the Blessings

See His love through blessings

            of shades and hues He’s painted

            Of rosy cheeks, and sun-kissed hair,

            The smiles of love, or tears of joy.

Just look, and count the blessings.

Smell the sweet aromas

            Of blessings He has given;

            The fresh-baked cookies, and the breads,

            The smell of flowers in sun-drenched fields.

Just smell, and count the blessings.

Taste the sweet and spicy,

            The tang that adds their flavor.

            The strong, the mild, and in-between

            Each adding zest to every life.

Just taste, and count the blessings.

Touch, and feel the blessings,

            The arms of love that hold you,

            The cold of winter’s snow and ice,

            The warmth of sun, and summer’s breeze.

Just feel, and count the blessings.

Hear the sounds of blessings.

            The orchestra that’s playing,

            The leaves that flutter in the breeze,

            The holy singing of the choir.

Just hear, and count the blessings.

These blessings of the Lord

Are given to each person.

            Sometimes a circumstance removes

            A sense, but others will remain,

So smile, and count your blessings!