My poem of this morning!

Morning

The Zen and Now clock chimes.

The idea is a gentle wake up call,

but it is insistent with its tone.

“Now” reverberates through all the rooms

of my home.  Now!  Now!  Now!

The plants put their leaves over their ears.

They are not ready to wake.

They are waiting for the touch of the sun.

I get up, and turn the clock off,

          my mood undisturbed.

                   It is a quiet lake.

                             Trees look in.

                                      Their face is cleansed,

                                                with ripples of cloth. 

          What words can I offer a troubled friend?

          I sit like a loom,

          waiting for thread.