Before the Dawn

Dawn is barely waking up

I've been awake just long enough

Stillness of morning filling me

A day of rest ahead of me

I allow gratitude to fill 

the spaces in my heart

It spreads and spurns me on

Daybreak

At last
Dawn has come.

What is there
To be done today?

Living
Breathing

Living
Breathing

Ceaseless
Movement

Possible Dawn

Oftentimes when I wake before dawn
I will sit down at my desk and write
and write and write. I try to open my
mind as fully as I can. I am the most
critical of myself at these hours. I feel
my weaknesses and shortcomings most
acutely. Why? Because I believe in the
better person I know I am capable of
becoming. Because I know my potential
is there and I have yet to meet my own
expectations. Perhaps it is also easier to
be more open and honest with yourself
when the world is still asleep and you
can feel it breathing and dreaming still.
I want to make this life better, not just
for me, but for those I love, for all of us.
It is always a struggle. Nothing of worth
can be gained easily. It must be fought
for. It must be suffered for. There is no
guarantee of a reward. We must become
masters of ourselves. Easier said than
done. That is so often the case. Yet it is
possible. I still believe in potential and
possibility. The story is not yet done.
The words are being written as we
breathe. I do not know your challenges
as intimately as I know my own. Your
struggles are valid. Suffer through them.
Build yourself through them. Recast
yourself into a position of strength and
greater compassion. Give up the belief
that what you want is impossible. Only
then can it be possible.

Will love become the dawn?

first light

first light spreads
across the sky
like wildfire

waking
i find myself among
the living once more

what to do
with this day
with this gift

i listen outside
my window
and hear

the birds sing
their answer
and fly away

i know
they are right
they usually are

second birth

What stirs
What awakens
What dares show it's face
to the dawning day
This self I know
aches for another birth
Renewed heart and promise
Dry the water on my body
Breathing deep again
Brand new eyes

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. 

If not for darkness
How would we know the dawn?

passage

Every dawn is beautiful
Every day passes into the next
as though 
                it were impossible
for this act
                 to not occur

late hours turn to dawn
what does night say to morning
faintest of whispers