Waking.

 

 

Waking.

 

Dawn hangs on September trees, wake slithers     
forward into sleep's acres,
turns shade to tailgates of light over which rays
snipe at quiescence
before sunrise leaps in to move bleary dreamers
like me to bright-eyed doers.

 

Day breaks to bathe passive sight in forewarning
as blind patches precede 
flashes of conscious surrender to oust inertia and
its sweet stupor,
dark casts veils around seeing but breath catches
on when still becomes movement.

 

Ears mistake sleepy whispers for proactive reality
when shaken sense rouses
to feel Heaven's infinity ticking away rested hours
making the richer
seconds remaining for flight's drowsy treasure as
night hooks day to its use.

 

"Time to get up Dreamyhead I suggest to myself

but please let the alarm clock

try waking me

~ ~  ~ softly. ~ ~ ~

Reviews

[Neville]

... you capture those pre wake moments here so very bloomin well Fay ... I am two hours ahead of you as the crow flies so will likely be in the land of nod when you are sitting down to your next supper ...