Certainty

The night was growing weary and I asked
you to point me towards the dawn. It had 
yet to arrive but I knew it would arrive 
shortly. The death of night arrives slowly
in increments perceptible by gradual fading
of darkness across the sky. The lifting of 
black in the east and the birth of bird songs 
across the still air. Bodies lay in warmth 
until sleep releases it's comfortable hold. 
Dreams race towards resolution so sleepy
eyes can ponder meaning at their waking.
Tied to the wheel of life we go back and 
forth and back and forth until the dreams 
have been exhausted and the morning
bids departure from us. Until then, until 
then, we move as though immortality 
is but a certainty for us.