Morning Routine

I picked a symphony,
and tied it to the morning.

I love the mosaic sounds of Bruckners no.7,
orchestrating my senses to color up the grey scaled,
mundane ritual of mornings.

I took the first glints of sun rays at daybreak,
and grinded them into a cup of dew and sunshine.

I drank a beautiful morning,
and had a sunrise streaming through my veins.

I took a bottle of perspective,
fashioned from all the hugs and kisses that decorate the memories of my childhood.

I opened it up,
and poured it into my soul.
Evicted the obscenities and negativities that had taken up real estate in the depth of me.

As the cleansing frequncues of no.7 saunters through the empty space in my room,
I catch one of the epiphanies,
Floating and flickering in the air like fire flies.

A laugh commandeers the moment,
As i assimilate with its wisdom.

I open the door and embrace all the sights that inspired Van Gogh.

I am the new day you see out your window.
Hovering in the hills and valleys.
If you see yesterday,
tell them It's nothing personal.