Waking up!

the smell of coffee brewing,
dark, and strong and heady....
sunlight working its way through blinds,

and the nip of autumn air.
the song in my head no one
else can hear, coming from nowhere....

the sharpness of things seen,
and things not easily seen....
thoughts pulling like undefined gravity,

driving me to get up, and go again.
time passes, leaves fall,
but the tree remains, strong and steady,

ready for the coming storms.
something deep inside my darkest hour,
affirms that spring will come again....

tired and weary, but hat still cocked,
hungry for flesh and breath and being.
plow in hand, eyes still twinkle!

damn, it's good to be alive!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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