The Little Things

Awake
Shaken by the sun on my face
A warm cup of coffee, that first saving grace
Birds chirp, and dogs bark
The dew reminds me of the recent dark
Still sleepy, I hear floorboards creaking,
The smells of the morning, children in the street
In the distance waves crash, mother earth laughs,
These first few moments define our paths,
I am tranquil, stretching my tight muscles and stiff bones,
Garbage trucks, mailmen and cellular phones,
Lawnmowers and hammers pounding,
typical ammoyance, consume and surrounding,
This morning is different though, they remind me of life,
Like deep down I know that each movement is right,
Its funny how sometimes things hold different meaning,
All products interpreted by touching and feelings,
hearing and seeing, the floor to the ceiling,
There is nothing much better, at least this morning,
as the smell of a fresh newspaper, next to strong coffee pouring,
I despise cigarettes, but my neighbors smoke lingers,
harmonizing with my senses like gospel singers,
This collage of perceptions combines with my aware state,
Even a papercut somehow feels great, always suprised by the joy life can bring, Its not the big picture its in little things.