Morning and the House Is Silent

2 Ayyam-i-Ha 162 B.E. February 26-27, 2006 A.D.

It is morning and the house is quiet, still after a long nights sleep. I wake listening to the silence for indications that I am not alone. I hear nothing, but I feel the tranquility of being alone. I am alone with my thoughts, realizing that since I went to bed early I woke up early as well. I get up without turning on the light, find cloths to put on (hoping that at least everything coordinates) and get dressed. I find my prayer beads and go into the dining room, to see what time it is and the clock reads 12:05.

It is morning and the house is still, so I go into the living room and turn on the computer. Then while it is booting, I go into the bathroom, wash my hands, face, and return to the living room. I sit down in my desk chair, take my prayer beads and face east. I begin chanting the Greatest Name ninety-five times using the prayer beads to count. Why do I turn on the computer before chanting? The reason is not quite clear to me, but this is what I did this morning. Maybe chanting God’s Greatest Name helps me to remember the dream, I had last night. Maybe it is just the silence and tranquility in the house around me, but I chant before doing any actual work or getting online.

It is morning and the house is hushed, I write about the dream I had last night or was it before I woke up. The dream, called The Wire Figure Man, was intriguing and memorable; I posted in in my writing.com blog. It was a color dream that played like a movie, I was not in the dream, but rather I was the audience watching the dream. I classified the dream as a science fiction movie.

It is morning and the house is silent, I pick up my prayer book. This morning I am scattering my prayers between bouts of writing. I have never tried this approach before, so I well see how it goes. I do know that I have a tendency to focus on continuing to write without pause and this is not conducive to my creativity. I am much more creative when I insert my bouts of writing between other activities.

It is morning and the house is soundless, the background noises do not interfere with my morning meditations so it is as if they are not here. Lion is being a pest; he does not understand why I am up so early. He did not have to wake me up this morning I awoke on my own. Lion wants only stroking and the silence in the house enhances his purr.

It is morning and the house is noiseless, Lion has gone off to lie down. I am sitting alone at the computer contemplating turning up the heat because it is getting a bit chilly. I think I will turn up the heat and while I am doing that get a bottle of water. I am thirsty; I have taken the last sip of water out of the bottle sitting on the stand by my computer desk.

It is morning and the house is silent, sounds like a good title for a poem. Actually, this whole piece looks and feels as if it could be a prose poem. If that is the case, I am going to have to rewrite it eventually. However, at this point I am going to leave it as if it is and post it. It is now 2:00 a.m. PST.