Present

What is this morning gift of you 

and how do I deserve 

to wake up to a warm bundle 

of pure love smiling back at me? 

When did I earn the right 

to hold you close to me, 

feel your ocean wave breathing 

against my chest, 

stroke your peach fuzz head,

kiss your apple cheeks? 

The birds are chirping 

their morning song 

and I am convinced that heaven 

is a place on earth, 

and I’ve somehow been let through 

the pearly gates.

I find myself 

bargaining with the Source, begging

to remain in this place 

that so vividly reveals 

the Purpose of it all.