Today is All I Have

Pale yellow ray of sun bathes my eyes, still sleepy from the evening ritual.

I toss and turn, catch glimpse of the blue jays signing me a song. Their prickly maroon feet perching against the green blades of life, determined for a flight.

I know it. I feel it.

No bluish yesterdays to lament. Tomorrow’s rainbows offer hope. The here is here, enveloped in a thousand colors, each brighter than the last.

I am alive.

Riveted by the day’s unscheduled glory, red ribbons of lace seducing me to explore, to find meaning. To find purpose.

I am alive.

I glide my fingers by the weathered rails, wrapped in jasmine coils competing for affection. Their bluish snow white petals wait for me to lift their essence. The caramel sweetness of their story mine now. The here is here.

I catch a roaring tainted gust of wind, gray remnants of reality and the busy street I cross. I fret and wait, I gasp in silence and then I hear myself succumb. I smile and know.

I am alive.

The evening primrose turns to violet, announcing the finale. Soft sprays of lavender, orange, too. The sun salutes and bids farewell.

The darkness of the night befalls. From gray to black to back to gray, all anxiously awaiting, the angst that comes when darkness hails.

I fret and wait, and then I know. This, too, will come and go. And if I’m lucky, one more time, to let the light in back again, awaken I will be, by pale yellow rays of sun, and blue jays singing once again, because the bluish days of yesterday will be gone, but red ribbons just await me.

The here is here.

I am alive. Again, I know I am.