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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Someone asked, what is the perfect day?
This morning, the coffee is hot
the air has a hint of forthcoming crispness
(but not too much, it’s Texas, y’all)
and the dog is panting under my desk
recovering from his run.
The sun isn’t up yet
giving the illusion of productivity
as I manage to eke out some words
before the sun comes up.

Is today perfect?
At this hour, yes
nothing has marred it
nothing has happened

Perfect days are new every morning
and each morning a gift
just give it an hour
and we will take care of that.

And yet, can any day be less dreamy
then if we are fully present?
Is the dream in the potential
rather than the practice?