Mist. Haze. Fog
The mist of the morning alerted me as I woke. This soft blanket in the early hours of the day just beautiful.
A grand sight to behold as I give my thanksgiving to Jehovah for allowing me another day.
No matter the trial not the pain I can make it. A small gift was to let my eyes shoot open. Stinging as they are I am still grateful.
Even though still dreamy my eyes flicker between complete awakening or falling back into the subconscious dreams.
The finishing of what was pressed there. Indeed I just relax and fade. The eyes droop and the cold room invites a snuggle. Simple pleasures.
And a good morning to all. Giving myself two more hours of rest, I hope. Screaming alarms ready.
Mist. Haze. Fog. Whatever you want to call it, find your moment outside in it. Smile.
A grand sight to behold as I give my thanksgiving to Jehovah for allowing me another day.
No matter the trial not the pain I can make it. A small gift was to let my eyes shoot open. Stinging as they are I am still grateful.
Even though still dreamy my eyes flicker between complete awakening or falling back into the subconscious dreams.
The finishing of what was pressed there. Indeed I just relax and fade. The eyes droop and the cold room invites a snuggle. Simple pleasures.
And a good morning to all. Giving myself two more hours of rest, I hope. Screaming alarms ready.
Mist. Haze. Fog. Whatever you want to call it, find your moment outside in it. Smile.
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