Overture
There it is.
The threshold.
The starting gate.
The point of
contact.
Clean gold.
Awaiting ignition from some spark of
imagination.
Everything-hinges-on-this-moment-in-time.
And this one.
And this.
Not even awake
Not even awake
six a.m. Has come
sleep is no more
yet it is
it is the nobility of dawn
the integrity of doing
what for me
has not ever been
done before
9am
I immediately stood
The morning had come
I was fresh
Renewed
Clean
Unaware
Of what will come
Ironically it hit me that this is how everyday is
We never know what words will come out of our mouth each hour
I lay on the deck
Flipped through the thesaurus
I am a vessel of letters…
Transition
Tides of gray wax in the purple blackness of the night,
O sun, where art thou in this gloom?
A moment of hush, as the denizens wait for the light,
Anticipation lies thick in this room.
Slips the dreams into their cocoon,
To come again, or perhaps not again.
These manic plays end so soon.
No final act is played nor seen.
The hush breaks now, a bird in song
Serenades the coming dawn.
A zephyr carries the melody along,
To stifle my awakening yawn.
I rise, I turn, feet settling on the floor.
And enter the day through it’s opening door.
© 2014 D. Edward Croy
Prayers on Water
PRAYERS ON WATER
She wakes to meet the day
While slumber has a hold on others.
She rides the waves of silence
Soft, soft silence
Falls into her hands
Like catching snowflakes
In winter.
Rocking in the waves
The rhythm of the water
Is her own.
Listen
She will tell you
What there is to know.
She is the waves,
The waves are her,
And they are ONE.
Tired Eyes and Morning Skies.
There’s sleep still in eyes,
And it’s blurring your view,
But the sun’s started rising,
And the world’s rising too,
Blackbirds are singing,
To herald the day,
So throw back the curtains,
And be on your way.
Not a Lullaby
Now I lay me down to sleep,
Up the stairs the Devil creep,
Presenting to me a nightmare,
Scaring me with an evil grin and evil glare.
This is not a lullaby,
Staring at me with one bloodshot eye,
His mouth an empty dark abyss
I’m not afraid of this…
I… am not afraid of this.
I will wake before I die,
Shake from my mind a rainbow sky,
Light and love in my soul I keep,
When I lay myself down to sleep.
Hush little Devil, don’t you cry,
This is your nightmare, not a lullaby,
Shame on you for disturbing bliss,
You are so afraid of this…
You… are so afraid of this.
The Joke’s on You!
You would often say that
I’d take a hefty fall from grace
Struggle with the job at hand
And the challenges that
Life would present itself.
And yet slow and systematically
I’ve stayed a float
Resilient of the experiences
that life had shown me
In surmountable challenges
Have been mine to take
Some by chance and others I have sought out.
The thrill of the chase
The mastery of the situation
The mental challenge of manoeuvring around people’s ego
Defying the odds of success
Standing firm in my resolve to work through
Many a difficult circumstance
So you see the Joke is indeed on you!
For the battle that ensued inside of me
Fuelled by own self-doubt and influenced by your
Adept ability to undermine has been thwarted
Let’s keep the jokes coming
For the joke is indeed on you!
Prompt for Hour One
Good morning poets!
Your first prompt (should you need one) is this:
Listen to Cat Steven’s song Morning Has Broken. You can listen to it here, but make sure you ignore the video.
Don’t do anything while the song is playing, but after it is over start writing at once.