Morning Magic

by Kadinechristie

With no lover to hold 

or pull me back to bed

I wake early, 

drape my robe on 

and walk to the living room.

I pull the shutters, gently, 

trying not to wake the children.

The shutters open with a creak — 

reminding me that shutters make noises  

and I can’t control these things.

The double glass doors

open up to 

a silhouette of pine trees

and the sleepy sky. 

5:55 A.M

I open my computer and type

the sentence I carried with me from bed. 

I move a paragraph, like a puzzle piece, to the perfect spot

and write new thoughts that spring to my mind, 

like water from the earth. 

Time passes… 

I have this feeling that 

I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to: 

I’m weaving words together

and watching the light take over the dark. 

7:39 A.M.

I walk to kitchen and carefully open the espresso pot, 

trying not to wake the children 

forgetting already that pots creak too,

and I can’t control these things.

I stand at the window

and let the sun warm my face.

Sun on the Fruit Bowl

The coffee percolates

and perfumes the room. 

One more sleep

and my lover will return. 

When he pulls me back to bed, 

I will slip into 

his warmth, 


I’ll be exactly where I want to be. 

May you BE exactly where you want to be.


When do you feel like you’re doing exactly what you where meant to do? 

And BEING exactly where you where meant to BE? 


I’m reading through my manuscript this week and making edits. I added a sentence and shook my head NO!!! I can’t write that. It’s too emotional, too much, too raw. I almost erased it, but I thought, why write at all if you won’t be honest? 

Then, like kismet, a sentence came to me by ways of the New York Times:

“Every good story is told with varying degrees of reluctance.” Federic Stucin 

I write from places of pleasure and pain. I write with a good laugh and when tears fall down my face. 


“Many of us pursue pleasure with such breathless haste that we hurry past it.”  Søren Kierkegaard

I read this sentence in the book, Quiet Mind: One Minute Retreats from a Busy World, and I had to stop reading and think: What pleasures in my life am I hurrying past? 

This week, that question inspired me to listen a little deeper, hug my kids a little longer, kiss my hubby a little more. 

I hope you’re inspired to pause a little today, and not hurry past pleasure.


The poem I’m reading this week is written by Darriele Cresswell



Thanks again my dear friends for sharing the poems that are near and dear to your hearts. 

Keep sending me your favorite poems and I will record them in the upcoming weeks. 


City Lights

If you’d like to buy one of Ontonio’s paintings but your limited on space or funds, check out his merch page on

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I’m super thankful for all your support, encouraging comments, your expressions of gratitude, and your financial contributions. 


Until Next Time, Enjoy Your Next Breath

Kadine Christie

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