The Season of the Sunrise

2024.11.14

Good morning, that wonderful way.

How goes it? How flows it? How jelly rolls it?

Word play to start your day?

Good.

Sun's just cracked the sphere. The egg oozing light into shapes to cast shadows from forms called reality.

Woah the deep thoughts poet. Steady the tide. Enjoy the ride.

How's it with you?

Speaking it true?

Rhymes found me this morning quite without warning, a quiet hush, a romantic's mush.

When you see enough of them the light is a different quality dependent on the season of the sunrise.

Winter is a pastel blue, definitely not grey.

A different kind of day today. A rhythm not around for sometime for me.

I'd name it fun if I remembered the experience.

Playful.

Abe wants to run in circles. Stop fast! Grab his toy on the fly, look to the sky, shake the squeaker and Go!

The dog. His health. Space. AI. Dreams. Language. Writing. Ma (Mother Nature, for those of you unfamiliar with the site), the Moon, society, and how to treat each other. Dragons. Gnome. Ghosts.

Magic.

Words and doing words. Dreams and doing dreams.

Usual topics of the Morning Journal.

What are the topics of your life?

Not a bad question for a Getting-to-Know-You session with yourself.

Do it in rhyme it's a better time.

Take care, play fair, do as I say and have your better day.