Sunlight arabesques
through the window
to wake the sleeping;
no alarms allowed. 

Stretch, breathe, bask.

The future will wait
while we luxuriate.

Sunday politely requests
strong chicory coffee
with a sprinkling of cinnamon
to attract abundance.

Brew, sip, savor.

The ever-patient day  
will hold itself at bay.

The birch beckons,
promising salvation,
eager to preach
a sermon on stillness.

Assemble, listen, learn.

The wisdom of the tree
takes root and grows in me.

The porch hammock
yearns for the weight
of a body to cocoon 
and rock into serenity.

Swing, repose, ruminate.

The balmy August breeze
sings a song of of ease.

Worry wanders  
through the woods
finding no path
to this door.

Rest, safe, secure.

Wasted urgency long ago fled,
here, we make no room for dread.