Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Upon Waking

4:15 am, March 18, 2008.
Awaken to heavy rain
unintentionally colliding
with the structures erected
to keep us dry and warm.
Safe enough to dream of a
future. Waves crashed upon
the jagged rocks below and
It was then I recognized the
one who would move through
the rest of my life by my side.

6:08 am. February 16, 2011.
The darkest purple,
then iridescent orange,
then a burst of light
all against the outline
of blackened trees
without leaves and
naked before the world
without shame, without
guile. Before writing,
there is only quiet;
only this hour at dawn
where I find the pieces of
myself that I need to walk
toward love each day.

Love--the ideal, love--the effort,
is a dwelling built of joy
on that perfect day, spent
alone, two years ago on
a stormy Pacific ocean;
during a winter storm far
different than the blizzards
known by Midwesterners.
For today, my love walks
slowly down wide streets,
jumping the occasional puddles
of a February thaw, whispering
hopefully to the morning sky
of more perfect days.

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