This morning

This morning,
I woke up,
Feeling like a bird,
Flying, soaring endlessly,
Through the misty clouds,
Over green tree-tops,
Under the sky blue sky,
To be free from the chains,
Of school and routine,
Oh,
If only this could last forever.

This morning,
I did not moan,
As my fingers slammed the 'snooze' button,
I did not rush out of bed,
I did not don my shirt and slacks,
Instead,
I took my time,
Like a snail,
Oblivious to what is slow or what is fast,

This morning,
For once,
I looked out the window,
Stunned,
That this beauty,
Never before noticed,
Was so near,
So right-there,
As it remained just out of range,
Of the narrow and tunneled vision of,
other rushers alike.

So,
I learned to,
Let time run its unrelenting course,
Like a river,
Flowing regardless,
Be a fish,
And swim in the forthy current of time,
Be a twig,
And succumb to the flow,
Or
Be a rock,
And let the twigs and fish alike,
Go along their paths,
As you just sit and watch,
Stationary,
Unaffected by the unmerciful stream of time.
Whether I choose to be a slave of it,
That's a choice.
What are you?