Early Morning Writing

When the morning is dark and quiet
and the coffee hot and sweet
The words flow like mercury on glass.
Ideas shower down,
not like rain, but as a fine mist
gentle, persistent, pervasive.
Washing over me, covering completely,
without drowning out all other thought.
Permitting me to breath with them.
Absorbing gently, naturally, into my thoughts.
Then seeping into my writing.

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