Beautiful Day

Have you ever woken up to the light of the glistening sun
shining through your window, guarded by clouds
gliding smoothly like serpents across their empyreal plane,
and felt

the warm embrace of the light on your closed eyes,
the once-cold toes warm under their comforter,
the remnants of slipping sleep whispering lethargy,
the footprint of dreams fresh and strong,
the warm impression on the pillow;

and out there

the cold air - not really as cold when you exit the washroom,
the rush of the world, the responsibility, the appointments to keep,
the need to make that breakfast despite thinking it isn't worth the trouble,
the clock's temporal commandments by which to drive yourself,
how fast the madness of life returns;

and just when you get cozy in

the bubble in which you weather the pelting passers-by,
the helpless smiling of your girlfriend and those honey eyes,
the minute after five when you get that sweet release,
the lights in their exotic shapes when darkness rolls around,
the feeling you get when standing between two huge buildings;

Soon it will be time again to meet that
soft warm bed from which you were born again,
you know, the one you put off for other things,
and yet there it is.