Grabbing the clock. 5:30 am, I sign.
I shuffle the pillows and turn over, hoping for one more hour of sleep.
You snuggle in, and the rhythmic sound of your breath soothes me for a while.
My unwilling mind demands I wake. More signs.
Exuberantly you jump from the bed, joyfully greeting the day with staccato barks.
My hand smoothes your soft fur.
I shuffle to the door, grab coffee and return to bed.
The discipline of practice sets in, seeking inward refuge.
I settle into the quiet of morning meditation, your head gently resting in my lap.
You watch the world as I watch the breath.
Together we meet the day in silent reverence.