In the Morning

The morning welcomes me as it usually does -
With the honking of cars, the loud calls of the barkers littering the streets,
The turning of keys, the slamming of doors and, sometimes, if I’m lucky, complete silence.

Moving flats within the city have not changed this -
Where I am, rarely you will hear any birds sing their trill or the gentle rustle of the trees in the wind - the bustling city is all you will hear.

As I awake to this welcome, I do my best to make sure
That the first words I utter are words of gratitude -
“Thank you” I would whisper in my half-awaken state in spite of what I feel.

“Thank you” in happiness and celebration
“Thank you” when I had a great night’s sleep
“Thank you” when I’m swelling with joy
“Thank you” even if it’s a sleepless night
“Thank you” even if it’s unrestful sleep
“Thank you” even if I woke up with a heavy heart
“Thank you” even if I feel overwhelmed that I want to cry
“Thank you” in anguish and in hopelessness
“Thank you” even when I don’t feel like it
“Thank you” even when there’s nothing to be thankful for

Just, “thank you”

For I know, with each dawning of the sun, I’m given a choice -
To be grateful, to take a stand, to seize the day (for opportunities also arise as I do)
Or, to be bitter and squander what the day has to offer away

For I also know, that each tomorrow is not guaranteed,
One will never really know when one’s candle is snuffed out and by then,
it will be too late.

With the passing of time, you would think you’d get used to the ebbs of ocean of life
And while I long for quieter mornings in another city far away - to the smell of the Bäckerei,
In the arms of another, to the crisp, cool wind, to the forest before me
- and I know, one day, I will -
I will keep moving forward, I will keep on keeping on
As who knows but that I have come to my position for such a time as this?

But until then and even after,
God, I just want to say thank you.

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