When did my day begin? When my eyes opened? Even though they did so against their will. After the first coffee? Or after the second and third which followed. After completing my first task of the day? A task I did not put upon my list is perhaps a task that does not count.
When then did my day begin? This endless day, of sleepless nights and eternal repetition. This day of longing and desire for freedom from boundaries I cannot see or fathom. This unpredictable day, that is the same as all others and yet is as unknowable as the ocean. Each day is a droplet of water which ascends towards the sun, before falling down once more with a brethren that may have travelled far from home.
When did my day begin? This question as uncertain as when it will end.
Original Picture Taken: Stirlingshire, Scotland (November 2008) ©DSCoremans
Happy Writing. Stay Safe. Stay Distracted.