✨Soul Mirror✨

I rise with the morning,
still heavy with sleep from the night before.
Birdsong greets the world
a soft hymn that quiets the ache,
older than the mountain view from my stoop.

I open the cupboard,
searching for a mug
to fill with the sweet decadence of something hot.
The warmth seeps in,
soothing what’s sore.

I choose my mug like I choose myself-
chipped, perhaps,
faded at the edges.
Whole and brand new.
Old and questionable.
Tacky, sometimes.

In these small, strange moments
realization strikes,
and my old poet’s heart beats quicker.
Inspiration lives here,
in the quiet,
in the choosing,
in the sip.
In every breath I finally remember to take.