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Writer's picturePeter Haycock

I woke you up this morning





I woke you up this morning and was so excited. I'd got the sun up a bit earlier and roused the birds so that they could greet you as well. Last night I'd sent some bats to play in your garden and you found that amusing, but didn't realize I was behind their visit. That's OK. It is - it's OK. You were tired - I know. This morning, though, I hoped that the sunshine and birdsong would remind you of me, but you just got on with your day. So I sent you two deer, running past your front door just when you were opening it. You thought that was amazing - and said so - but that was it! At lunchtime you ate those delicious salad leaves that I'd caused to grow from seeds in your greenhouse. You must admit that cut straight from the plant to put on your plate they were something special! Yes, I know you did, because you told your wife; but you didn't tell me.


As night fell this evening, I decided to paint you a colour picture in the clouds and slowly turn it into a black and white star scene with Venus centre stage. Isn't Venus tremendous at the moment, so bright that you can see your own shadow by its light? I think so: it was one of my special designs. I'm sure that you do too, because I've seen you looking at your shadow and smiling. Yet you just smiled. And I was disappointed.


At bedtime it occurred to you that you had not spoken to me today, but you said that's alright because you can always pray tomorrow. It might have felt OK for you to go through one of your days without me, but it wasn't OK for me! I don't ever want to live one of my days without you.



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