The Tea Kettle is Whistling

The sun is just breaking,

Rosily blushing over the mountains.

The modern rooster calls

From its black mirrored pond

Hustle bustle

Hum drum

The tea kettle is whistling.

The calendar is calling,

the to-do lists demands,

And there are boxes of lunches

Haphazardly packed by

Confident, jammy, eager, fingers.

Hustle bustle

Hum drum

The tea kettle is whistling.

Each is wrapped up with

Love, spoken, and unspoken

the hours lay out their demands:

“Bend, like a river,

First here,

Then there,

Flow, as needed.”

Hustle bustle

Hum drum

The tea kettle is whistling.

Conquered all

The foothill foes of missing socks,

The dragons lurking in the mines of dishes,

Slain are the bedtime stories

And

Toothbrushing

The hustle and bustle

sleeps

The hum drum

Rests

The stars are twinkling

A nighttime symphony

They sing a song

Of cold… forgotten… tea