In this changing of seasons,
this new crispness of morning air,
there is an invitation of lingering longer
in the warmth of my wife and bed.

In these moments of reluctant rising,
I find my eyes less eager to open.
I’d rather draw the comforter up a bit closer,
turn off the alarm
and find out just how much sleep
this older body thinks it needs.

There are many invitations
to decline duty,
to rest,
to stay sheltered,
to hold close to the comfort
of warmth and ease.

There are those, too,
that woo us away,
calling us to some tempting thrill,
some momentary pleasure
that would take its measure of consequence
for ages to come.

Somewhere in between
those conflicting calls,
I find myself
leaving the reassuring warmth and closeness,
turning toward the readying
of another day’s doings.

I find that in the making of each day,
my life has a way of drawing me
to the things that are good,
the things that endure,
the things that bless.

It is for work that rest is given.

H. Arnett
9/23/09