I balanced on the edge of my chair,
steadied myself and peered through the frosty glass,
subdued sunlight streaming through the trees,
growing clouds slowly threatening its presence.

There’s something majestic about morning’s first light
that offers hope and a valid reason to pursue the day.

Mounds of snow covered the landscape
hiding its imperfections like a blanket smoothed over a lumpy mattress.
I shifted my weight, pulled the shades
in an effort to block the clouds from my view.

Settling into the hardness of my aging chair
I felt at one with the cat sitting beside me,
my thoughts absent, his contentment
expressed with a steady, rumbling purr.

The sound of his motor steadily idling provided a methodical rhythm,
as the cold from the window began to subside.
I pondered what to do with this day of clouds and gloom
as I walked to the window and reopened the shades.

As quickly as they had appeared, the clouds had dispersed,
sunlight had reappeared and was performing a twinkling dance on the surface of the snow.
I watched in awe of its power to uplift my soul and mourned the act
I missed,
when I chose to drop the curtain before the end of the show.