Mondays Poem by hollie ash

sometimes i wake up on a Monday morning completely overwhelmed by the world.

then i get an official invitation from jason and roo, which i'm not sure i can accept, but i also can't turn down.
then i leave the house to discover stunningly perfect weather, in a completely un-Monday-like way.
then mike hands me my hot chocolate and a comfortable (but short) conversation, just the way i like it and without having to ask.

and then i hear the line 'in my darkest hour I will be free' and i remember how far i've come this year.
and the sun is hitting the bellies of the ducks flying in a lopsided V directly above me in a way that reminds me of the intentionalism of all things in nature.
and when i get to work the birds are chirping a welcoming song, as if they've never heard of Monday at all.

when i'm greeted by no less than 4 genuine 'good morning's' i realize that yes indeed it is.
when i slip into the familiarity of the day i know i have a place, a purpose and a direction here.
when i sit down to write this it comes with an ease and clarity that threatens (in a good way) to become a geiser for the thousand other words on the tip of my tongue.

so i wonder what all the being overwhelmed was about. and how Monday's get a bad rap sometimes.