Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Mornings

mornings

my dreams sit in rapt awe,

hushed,

as the sun slowly weaves

into a waking sky

and I remain swathed

with faint memories

of the night before.

beginnings and endings

fuse

at that precious second

when the scents of dawn

descend on my pillow

and I sift through yesterday

with a shy smile.

today awaits, hope soars

farther

than my hands can ever grasp,

where my soul finds odd comfort

and joy.

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