In the stillness morning holds,
even with windows closed,
I hear the birds.

I pour coffee
with a touch of milk,
a bit of sweet,
breathe deeply
of this new formed day.

I think of your touch,
your voice,
and your smile,
wonder how this interlude
could fill me more.

He has given me a pause,
the birds, and you,
let me be worthy
of His joy.

.

.

.

Author’s Note;

After writing a poem a day for thirty days, I felt a bit empty going to bed. So I did this instead.