I wake in the morning, eyes wide, heart sprightly,
Others still asleep, I move quickly, quietly, lightly.
I slip on my shoes, and without words he knows,
I grab his faded-blue leash, eyes glistening, tail wagging, to the door he goes.
In the morning it’s not any normal sort of door,
It’s a portal to heaven, the beginning of an ocean; my mind parched, the handle I reach for.
I’m free as an eagle, diving and sweeping through the crystal-splattered sky,
My legs alive, bounding and leaping, not a second seems to pass by.
The sounds of the morning, so simple, so sweet,
The whispering winds, the rustling leaves, the birds as my choir, the drums are my feet.
The sun rises quickly, with a duty to fulfill,
To light our little world, allotting new life, new chances, new will.
A mile for the morning brews harmony deep into my soul,
It’s like new breath within me, it’s a warmth, it makes me whole.
Some venture outside and are unhappy with what they find,
And so my heart yearns for them, for I can see, unfortunately, they, are blind.