coming to our feet

my alarm clock is no clock at all..
it is a coming-to to consciousness ..
finding thought wide awake..

this morning was no exception ..
already deciding to re-write a letter to a friend..
refraining from sending a welcome home pamphlet to another,
mouth-watering about the waffles i will make,
wriggling my feet, legs, hips, shoulders
to see where pain was stuck..
which tea i will be brewing..
all in a few ring-a-lings of the inner sanctum alarm..

the first moments of coming to my feet
always take me out-of-doors..
a balmy pristine 3:45 AM..
the stars - still up and out..
dazzling the dark..
i imagined their alarm clocks..
ready to tuck in as daybreak stretched the light..

after prayers.. be they a bit weak this day..
chai and sitting.. mat time
waffles browning .. sweetening the cozy .
munch time..

i was summoned out-of doors yet again..
skyward gazing brought into focus
a smitter of large dark birds..5 at the most..
what are these flight-lovers?
for one could see ..
even from the dusk and distance
how much they were enjoying the winds
the currents..
all of a sudden..
there were a dozen..
then ..
a dozen more..
grabbing the binocs..
crows..yes..crows..
chequeing the tail feathers..
a few ravens in the murder..
more and more joined the circling..
higher, wider, exultant..
dozens twice and thrice..
the luster of the new day
a glowing backdrop for the
coterie of feathered flyers..

just then..
just now..
the hummers started to chum their way to the feeders
as is their morning ritual of nectar gathering and camaraderie..

this very day was close, so close
heading in the direction of self-pity..
you know..that stake to the heart..
when i was uplifted
out of the self that clings to a self..
all medicine wants is pain to cure..
what a whopper of a dropper full i received..
coming to my feet..