Be grateful for what you have.

Out of the foggy mist,
pale lemon colored rays
pour across the lawn
and into the window,
kissing my eyes awake,
lingering on my body,
delighting my ears with
the promises of a new day.

Not everyone is as fortunate.

Sometimes the foggy mist
reveals a living nightmare
that slithers across the lawn
and into the window;
it coils the breath from
shortcircuiting lungs; it
strangles the cry for help,
promising a day full of pain.

Or else it emerges
from stygian clouds of war
that thunder across the land
and into the window;
snuffing out the candle
of life with one bright flash,
destroying all dreams and
shattering the promise for peace.

Or else it is disclosed
in a hospital room,
terror that crawls on the floor
and into the window;
monitors beep a warning
but by then, it's too late -
I'm just thankful I woke
to the promise of morning.

(c) 2005, Karla Dorman.