Mornings I come back. Choose my place and my day starting in sound before solid. Permeates my being, my space when the window is still open. You know? Like the life spirit of a new shore. When awakening is still silent. Listen.
Song of Predawn Space
Slow the pull from speed in peace
Retake and slip, and rake the sleep
From bright to fog returning faint.
I muscle forth 'gainst limbs still
bound
From pallet down to love seat choose
The peel, the toll of other rules.
Open book, yet half unwritten.
Write a seed of peace decipher
Between the lines then voice, a master
Clear till mind choose chapter pages
Lines to x and white-out writing
What is the matter gray not wasted?
Stop in halted thought and listen
Sound the room and sing the inner
Spring from deep and dream the race
Now heard the essence of this rest
The song we sing in predawn space.
To bless this day as we awaken.
© 2015 Ardi Keim
No comments:
Post a Comment