He wakes at five

I know not why…

The working hour is hard to undo

Even though retirement was 10 years ago…

I hear him rise

Then turn over for another five

Hours of sleep… for me is wise….

During those hours he reads…

I meditate and snooze and drift into

Wonderful dreams of past times

And waken refreshed…

Our rhythms are different

But we’ve managed to sing the same tune

And dance to life’s ups and downs

Without loosing the beat…

Our life has slowed

But our rhythm is steady…

Yet we each follow our own drummer…