Sometimes pre-dawn feels like a SOS
An awakening, born out of distress
It is said back pain and a broken heart
Are the tools with which we turn life to art
If the angst you carry feels as though it’ll kill you
Then for certain, baby, morning holds your breakthrough
For me
Tremendous love, resides inside
As an aria
Weightless and burdensome
How is it that such fullness
This nothing less than aching
Arrives and leaves me
Walking
Feeling
As a ghost on Sunday
An otherwise fine, fine day
And there are no ears to touch?
The morning I think of giving up
Shades of moss green and orchid peaceably pull me back
As an elder, in Auto-Tune
Promising a child that dancing days lie ahead
An altogether different morning, now
That deserves
I deserve
A wholly-new and holy mind
They are always gone
Privilege revoked
At the dawn of a new Day
A third, final blow
Alone again
An actual text about spaghetti?
Anarchy in Our analysis
Anti-logic amongst us
A sunny arena today
And hope, always
And a promise, actually
And not really alone, after all….
Something so delicious, I’d coach you if you asked
When you lay it all down at the end of a Day
Aching in your body but not in your heart
Then the special way to sleep, a position most perfect
To taste what I’m talking, all I can offer you is practice
I want at once to show you
All of what I know of the day
The real-deal of it, how harsh it can be
How often, if we don’t look close
It presents as something to be endured
Suffered through, something to be wished
Away
This morning seemed that way
Then in a instant, struck me as instead
Commissioned
So be it, I say
Notice now the grandeur of it
A delicacy to be treasured or consumed
Have it your way
Either way, notice the gold
The encrusted shell of jewels
A Fabergé gift it is, to be opened
An outrageous little surprise inside
A sly creature, crowned in your birthstone
Peering out a tiny window
White it rains diamonds
Inside
Here, it is today
Take from it all you’re able
Give to it your best
