I am not sure if I have always been a morning person. I feel as if I am slowly easing into it.
I just recently started working at a café that requires me to wake up at 6:30 am. At this time last year, I would have probably never agreed to work at a job that opens that early. However, I am starting to see why the hours of the early morning should be appreciated.
I take a nice bike ride to work. In the heat, it can be so incredibly hard to enjoy the trip, but it is very peaceful at 6 am. I can take my time and enjoy the sunrise before the streets get busy. I can prepare myself for the day and spend some quiet time alone.
I wrote this poem while filtering through all the early mornings I have had lately. I started to think about all the little moments that have made them enjoyable:

It is a slow process
Waking up with the sun
My eyes are heavy and everything is soft

It is a hot summer
But the morning is mild and quiet
The sky moves from black to orange
And I step outside

A slow ride on a street
That is usually covered with cars and noise
It is suddenly mine
It is suddenly pleasant

Sometimes I put music to my ears
Sometimes I let the quiet embrace me
Sometimes I just think
I think about the conversations I will soon be a part of
I think about how the day will grow

There is something about a morning
The sky seems to be speaking
It seems to be planting an emotion within me
It moves over me as the day carries on
I let it move
I let the morning settle in me