“Happiness is waking up, looking at the clock and finding that you still have two hours left to sleep.” — Charles M. Schulz, American Cartoonist.
AWAKENING
Reluctantly I rise from sleep’s dark lake,
a land-drawn fish, I struggle into day:
with otherworldly eyes, I come awake.
On feeble, unaccustomed limbs that ache,
I climb from crushed bed-sheets in disarray.
Reluctantly I rise from sleep’s dark lake.
How strange it is each morning at daybreak:
the early light, the birdsong cabaret.
With otherworldly eyes, slowly I wake.
Sweet is the element I must forsake:
on waking, that safe haven slips away.
Reluctantly I rise from sleep’s dark lake
into the chill of morning to remake
myself again but better in some way.
With otherworldly eyes, slowly I wake.
We speak of death as sleep for kindness sake
though dreams are bright while death is surely grey.
Reluctantly I rise from sleep’s dark lake.
With otherworldly eyes, slowly I wake.
No comments:
Post a Comment