He restoreth my soul
My favorite part of weekend mornings
is being able to drink my coffee or tea slowly.
My husband is not a coffee drinker and doesn't understand
why I can't just gulp down a cup before I leave for work
and be done with it.
Morning coffee is a bit like art with children
it's process not project.
This morning as sip I can see ribbons of colour out the window
white fog lifting off of
the greens of the grassy park across the street,
beige in the dune grasses waving in the breeze,
beautiful silvery blue of the Atlantic ocean,
calm as glass this morning,
and a pastel, orangey, pink sun rising up out of it.
All of it moving to it's own beat of life,
and all of it, all of it,
moving to the rhythm of the earth and to the universe.
So I sit at my window...
sipping my coffee slow.
He restoreth my soul.