Morning Birdsong

There is a swirling feeling that takes place before you awaken, bringing you into the now. An understanding of time, space and place that physicists do not fully understand. There is a departing of the dreamworlds, an entering of reality. Garden birds pierce the silence or perhaps it is the pressure within the Victorian plumbing that awakens you.

It is the same as yesterday and again tomorrow. Another day. Another chance to break free. 

You try not to repeat dogmatic thinking but waking up alone will always render you ice cold. The bird stops singing and all is calm but inside the waves of unhappiness cascade. 

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