The morning is breaking, there's frost on the ground.
The birds have awakened, there's food to be found.
The sun it is peeking above hill and over dale.
The warmth of a new day is hearty and hale.
My eyes open slowly, my mind now awakes.
My dreamland forgotten as quick as a shake.
Is it Monday? Or Tuesday? Does it even really matter?
As long as I wake up ...I'm good.
Time is a concept created by fools.
With rules that bind me to things I must do.
I can waste it, use it,or leave it to fate.
I'll be early, on time, or five minutes late.
I may choose to ignore it and see what occurs.
I may stick to a schedule, or not.
Whatever I do, about time, in my day,
The sun will still rise, and the birds will still play.~Jay Olson
