HAIKU FOR MORNING

“Do not hire a man who does your work for money, but him who does it for love of it.” - Henry David Thoreau

I have so much on at work now that there seems to be a slew of deadlines hiding under every bit of paper on my desk, ready to attack me in case I miss them. I had several appointments today, and the rest of the day was spent completing a couple of urgent documents that need be submitted by the end of the week. Several people had to contribute and because everyone else at work is also so busy, it is difficult sometimes to get them to deliver the goods. I am usually good at juggling tasks and mostly get people to cooperate, with even the recalcitrant ones managing to give me what I need by the eleventh hour. It’s sometimes stressful, but it’s good stress and I seem to thrive on it…

The morning today was crisp, dark and the sunrise was beautiful and gold. Unusually, the train was almost full this morning and they were all a talkative lot. Laughter, repartee, guffaws, animated conversations, giggles, iPods going at full blast, audible even through the headphones. And all this on the 6:30 am to the City! I walked up the stairs, eschewing the busy escalators and at the cafés by the entrance to the station I inhaled the inviting aroma of freshly roasted and ground coffee being brewed. A cup of strong, black, bitter coffee reminded me of the past…

Not dwelling on memories, I walked on to cross the road, mindful now of the empty, still cold streets and wondering whatever happened to the train crowd. The paperwork littering my desk a daunting sight, but a saving buzz from the phone ensured my day would start well. The voice at the other end warm, loving and reassuring.

Another day has started.

Haiku for Morning

Look! The East’s on fire
Darkness is quickly dispelled:
I start to think of work.

A crowded train; packed
Escalators, hubbub, din –
Cold streets are empty.

Fragrance of coffee
Warm cup; steam in the cold air.
Bitter taste, absence.

Words, numbers, papers:
My desk chaotic. Your call
Orders my morning.

A full day ahead,
The diary’s crammed, I talk on,
Loth to lose your voice.

A sunny morning,
Cool air and leaves that yellow:
Work as clouds gather.