paragraphing early

I am a morning person again. I always was, I suppose, but the difference is that once again I have something to get up for, someone to smile at me in the soft light glowing through the blinds. I forgot the brightness of this apartment, on the fourth floor, all windows east, nothing much taller around. It starts early and builds in intensity and heat until I can't stay asleep any longer. I don't mind it. Rolling out of bed to make a cup of tea, read a chapter or two, hear the bells of the trains and the birds in the trees across the street. A lazy morning, meant for Sundays but my weekend is today and temporarily eternal. There are plenty of tasks ahead in the day and the weeks but this is my new time for simply being. As much as I love the company and richness of a shared life I still relish the few moments I have to myself in peaceful quiet where I am unaccountable and completely free. This space is a reflection of that span, a two dimensional embodiment of it. We are immediately distant from the nighttime ramblings of a tired and lonely mind. Here, now, there is light, breath, joy.