Mornings

Setting elaborate traps to fill in the gaps of I want to walk on water, of I want to wake up with a smile. Hating mornings. Hating the mundane transfer of energy on an exaggerated repetitive stance. Standing in morning formation. Standing up tall and straight in uniform with your boots shined waiting for inspection. Waiting for your turn.

Waiting to find it. Looking for it everywhere. In the clouds. In other's input and output. That something that makes it all worth while for a while. Can't put it into words. Can't describe it. But when you see it, when you feel it, you know it. I see it in my baby girl's eyes. I feel it in my love for my wife. I want to be surrounded by it. Bath in it. Drink it in.

Another morning.