A Cliched Good Morning

Hope works best in the morning. It’s a new day, fresh start, new beginning – hoping that the rest of the day be filled with life.

It’s inexplicably soothing to sit for a couple of minutes and stare at the morning scene, how a once dead atmosphere is slowly being filled with life.

The change of immobility to dynamism – from death to life. It’s like this stargazer lily that I have, it’s amazingly epic to see the buds start to bloom.

It’s the same case when I open a new document in my laptop as I wake up. As I stare at this meaningless blank page, I let my heart flow and do its art (if I may call my writing an art).

The words reverberate and stumble with one another, seducing my mind, intoxicating the very core of my being and I notice my jaws doing their usual involuntary movement. The only sound I'm hearing is the clickety clacks and tickety tacks of the keyboard – fueling my heart with warm fires of passion in this cold weather, dripping blood from my spirit, resurging the ink from a metaphorical pen that was once dried out.

Then I am caught to what they call as writers block. Exasperatingly forcing my fingertips to move, squeezing my brain tight to write more.

Type type delete delete delete.

I delete more words than I encode. Innumerable thoughts fleeting, unorganized, losing it. But as I close my eyes and withdraw from it, that’s the time that thoughts flow once more.

As I look at the page, I always write stories about how my day went and stories about my thoughts on that particular day. Confiding to a spirit, rambling, telling deep seated emotions, opening up as I ignore the proper ways of writing.

I get life from this… seeing how a blank paper turned out to be. It’s both a lively and a lovely feeling filled with hope. Sometimes it’s lonely, but I don’t mind it as I feel beautiful that I’ve let a soul hear the beating of my heart.

Ah mornings, fill me with hope today.

Fill me with life today.

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