Waking Up

Waking Up

Tranquility is breached.
Awareness
slowly seeps into dreams.
Sunlight
slices through gently swaying slats
striping my eyelids and softly nudging awake my senses.
I yawn
inhaling morning, exhaling the stale night.
Half submerged in delicate slumber
I stretch lazily
peeling off layers of drowsiness.
Red-breasted serenaders summon me from tree tops,
their song erasing the last traces of coveted sleep.
Once again I am denied my peace
as another day intrudes and sensibility tugs at obligations.
Reality has returned.


(NOTE: This poem is in the Pi poetry form.
Sixteen lines are formed by a set number of words per line:
3, 1, 4, 1, 5, 9, 2, 6, 5, 3, 5, 8, 9, 7, 9, and 3.)