Morning Light......

The morning light sits stagnant on the dust covered floor, becoming this incessant pool of orange that in the dusk I sometimes deplore.

 It is just another thing that I have seen so many times before, it’s just a signal to most that it’s time to rise and walk out the door.

But I irritate the restrictive signal by laying here for some while; it’s not as if there is some wake up guideline chart that I am here to defile.

I'm no catylst to the progression of change, I embrace it, but I am asking for a few hours to possibly be rearranged.

The Brown walls and sheer green curtains seem to be unfastened to the pooling of light. It is as if the sheerness invites the plight.

It’s as if the photos and paintings on the walls are luminescent as they are lit up by the sight.

But I bury myself deeper under the sheets as if to say no, no to the daily succession because I am not ready to let go.

Not ready to rid myself of the dreams from the night before, not yet ready to progress to a new day and what it has in store, feeling as if I have seen it all before.

But as expected, Here it goes, feet planted to the ground, moving slowly not to make a sound.

I get myself unbound and rewound for the routine of what is approaching me. It is not really as awful as I make it seem.

My life is open, my day’s are free, most of the time I am reading or just being.
But then again I hate to wake up when I am not ready; I wish the sun would hold it steady.

Maybe it could wait to intrude just this small space; it just seems to much a waste.
Maybe it could let me complete that one last night’s dream, it may be more important than it seemed.