He loved that first crack of dawn’s light
A fresh cup of coffee before a therapeutic shave
An eager greeting from the shaggy, drooling dog
The silence of his own mind before demands invaded.
With night’s scent still in his rumpled t-shirt,
He tiptoed back to gaze at his sleeping love, his children
His personal trove of wonder, over an expanded horizon of purpose.
He’d liquidated his illusion of freedom for this belonging and super love,
That often made him wink at the universe: “Well played”
As he perched on his porch to silently witness the bog of time before the world came alive.