Sunday

As I rise on this day

Wondering how the

Week will begin

In two minds

Still needing rest

But rest interrupted

Mind wonders ahead

What’s the week ahead holding?

Good times or bad

Pinching myself

Hold positive thoughts

Days will come and go

As always, the week will

Work itself out

My role is, only to

Give the rolling days

My best self

Till we meet again!

Waking up on Sundays sometimes has a bitter, sweet feeling. My dilemma. Do I rest longer? Should I just wake up and get on with it? I had planned a different slice, but my conundrum led me to this simple poem.

A soothing Golden Shower Plant from my sister’s garden.

9 thoughts on “Sunday

  1. I, too, found the most powerful of descriptions in these lines:
    “My role is, only to

    Give the rolling days

    My best self.” These bring me back to myself, and make me want to do the same. Beautiful.

    Liked by 1 person

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