writing to know, knowing thru being, being for writing... this is me, writing about the one thing i know, which is myself... and even that is sometimes a mystery...

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

new morning slumber song

i am awake and it's very late, to the point of being very early.

and the bird's are charming songs from the distanced woods (i didn't even know birds began singing this early/late)

in the loneliness of night, when i can sense being all alone in the darkness and stillness at my window looking at the sky,

i wonder if the rays of light shining in my window
and the faces in the glass
may reflect some mirror phases and moon-like shinings
into morning dew and sherbet dreams

awake and alone i think of you
and restless, cannot sleep.

the silver shadows, branches encrusted in spinning artificial lamplight,
comb lightly at the air, like slick wet fur,
bristling with the tension and the contact.

the diamond eyes in the distance light my way to shadows
and fill my heart with sharpness and a tearing that opens up and billows out
and parachutes me

catapults me
inward outward backward and toward
the new morning.


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