Sunday morning are for waking up slowly --
lazily rubbing the sleep from your eyes and stretching the night's rest from your bones
smiling at the rays of sun peeking through your blinds, casting shadows across your messy bed.
Sunday mornings are for walking barefoot & bare-bottomed to the kitchen
and filling your space with the unmistakable smell of good coffee.
They're for Bob Marley and singing aloud during house chores.
For sifting through the paper with your favorite mug & steaming cup of black Joe,
staining your thumb and forefinger black with every turn of the page.
They're for leather bound books and boundless thoughts mashed in your mind -
ideas that you must detangle as your pen hits the page
and you spill your soul into Sunday Morning.