Through the window I see the wind dancing in the leaves. The sun is making its way over the tops of the trees on the East side of the house. Dappled light shimmers across the lilac bushes.
The sky was varying shades of grey when I poured my wake up coffee in my go-cup this morning. Anticipation of what the day will bring, or not, flits in and out of the brain waves.
A good day to write. But, for today, that thought will simmer.
There will be other inspiring mornings. Days that take me on a journey of expression. Welcoming me to that place where the mind and pen join together on paper to tell a story.
There will be other inspiring mornings when the sun explodes from the horizon and the simmering pot of words boils over to create the next chapter.
There will be other inspiring mornings . . .
The sky was varying shades of grey when I poured my wake up coffee in my go-cup this morning. Anticipation of what the day will bring, or not, flits in and out of the brain waves.
A good day to write. But, for today, that thought will simmer.
There will be other inspiring mornings. Days that take me on a journey of expression. Welcoming me to that place where the mind and pen join together on paper to tell a story.
There will be other inspiring mornings when the sun explodes from the horizon and the simmering pot of words boils over to create the next chapter.
There will be other inspiring mornings . . .
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