Christina Whitten Thomas ~ composer

Mornings With You ~ Pam McAllister

Waking beside you, I am as grounded as this morning's coffee beans,

as centered as our planet's rising sun,

as refreshed as the breeze that awakens the landscape of blue curtain.

A cat purrs in the dawning of our arms, and night dreams scatter.

The alarm has missed its dramatic entry.

It tries to jar our day, but you slap it silent

and roll to kiss my swollen lips.

Our laughter drips into the room,

warm and golden like honey on toast.

When we rise, our slippered feet

pad through puddles of sunlight.

          But the minutes of our lives, independent and bold,

          are already spinning us apart.

          At the door we kiss goodbye.

Then, I am lost for awhile,
                                                a castaway
                                                                 drifting
                                                                                in the cold ocean
                                                                                                 without land in sight.

I am a misplaced bookmark slipped

from a story I can't remember,

a page ripped

from the diary of my life.

Where was I?

Now I know how the moon feels in its listless wandering,

and why the lamb followed sweet Mary to school each day,

and what Orpheus knew in his desperate pursuit of Eurydice.

Outside, Brooklyn will awaken, and I

will find my way back into my life,

my little day,

now and then thinking of you.

printed with permission from the poet

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