Every morning, for as long as I can remember,
I have been waking up with a head
full of ideas -
often inspired by dreams that I
might of had the night before,
or recollections of things that might
have happened -
and as a result I always find myself
sitting up in bed, standing up on my feet,
thinking in between blinking,
as well as allowing my mind to wander
until it settles upon somewhere,
upon someone, or upon something
who drives my thoughts even further
down the road I find myself on.

Every morning, for as long as I can remember,
I have been waking up early
and then reaching out to the rest of the world,
catching up on the conversations of the moment,
as well as immersing myself in
the important and the superficial
things that I see which I know
mean something to somebody,
but not always as much to me.

Every morning, for as long as I can remember,
I have been waking up to the music
that always helps me to find
the right groove to start my day off with -
like dropping the needle of a record player
onto a vinyl disc and immediately finding
the start of a favourite song
on a particular album.

Every morning, for as long as I can remember,
I have been waking up
with a head full of poetry...
every morning, for as long as I can remember,
I have had these intuitive feelings
about what might happen
in the short-term future
as well as flashbacks to the past.

Every morning, for as long as I can remember,
I have found myself posing questions,
finding answers, and wondering about possibilities,
all the while knowing that there is
more to life to discover than what I
or anyone thinks they might know -
and all of this every morning
and usually before breakfast.