The House Is Still

The house is still.  The grey cat meows looking for his brother.

I can hear our son snoring on the floor (heavy breathing really).

The spring birds are busy singing outside the bathroom window

And the breeze has forgotten to wake.

The hours ahead are a blank canvas.

No paint is set out or pens ready to use.

The day has yet to unfold

And I am slow to greet the sun.

Breathing in this quiet is my morning cup of energy.

This time when the house is still is a special gift for me.

My mind is clear

And my breathing is pure and relaxed.

The hustle of the day will come soon enough.

The children of the house will begin to stir and rub their eyes.

I wait quietly to delay the sounds

And breathe while the house is still.