I've been awake and up for hours. In part, it's because I went to bed early. In part, it's because I got an idea for a poem as I tossed and turned, and finally, just before 3 a.m., I decided to get up and write it down.
This morning, I've been writing a poem about Noah's wife who moves into an inland condo on an upper floor and for the first time understands the joy that her husband's god felt in smashing it all and starting over. In some ways, it's a variation of other poems I've been writing, which does make me wonder if I should try combining all these shorter poems about Noah's wife into one long poem.
That would be a project for a later day. Right now, I'm just so glad to have any ideas for a poem.
I also decided that if I was going to be up so early, I'd make bread with the half gallon of milk that had begun to sour in the fridge. I now have plenty of homemade bread, and I've filled the early morning with the smell of baking bread.
I don't have today off as a holiday, but in many ways, I feel as nourished as if I did.