Ahh-h, today is another day. What day is it? Well, I donâ€™t really know. The weather is, well, regular for this time of year.
Awake, my love.
Time to get up.
Time to get up. Another day. Who am I, you ask? Thatâ€™s a silly question. I am your husband, your lifeâ€™s companion.
Get up. Donâ€™t dawdle, thinking, brooding. Whatâ€™s there to think about.
Now. Get up. Another day.
What time, what day, what weather? Where are we?
Right here, right now. Time to get up. Another day. Just like the others.
Just as good… No worse.
Now the earth is growing old. We are here, observers of the days of our lives, watching. But we have seen it all; all the stories have been told, and we have heard them several times; all the births, the deaths, the goings and comings, we know them.
Living out each day. Theyâ€™re all the same. Growing older, I suppose, with the earth, yearning a little to rejoin some universal imagination.
No matter now, nor any tears to shed…