Your favorite song is the weather outside.
The best painting you have ever seen is the comforter on your bed.
That green fertile valley down below with the occasional sparkling white clouds is your mind.
The cool breeze brings whispers of silence.
Two fawns lazily meandering in the next pasture are the peace of the moment.
A ray of sunlight piercing through a ‘V’ in the mountains shows the exactness of the morning.
A slight mist, evaporating by the minute, expresses possibilities.
In an adjoining mental room the cares of the day still sleep.
The Majesty of your early morning reverie overwhelms.
Then . . . there’s that knock on your door.