Sunrise at 4 am.
Birdsong before my alarm.  
Outside an open
Bedroom window

I saw no reason to greet
Another day with other than
Gratitude.

A deer drinking dew from
Leaves, startled by a
Fox, then, seeing no threat,
Continued to make
My morning.

My great uncle
Walking our fields
Found a bronse sword once.

Later, he stumbled upon
A stone age axe,
Both dutifully

Handed over to the local
Museum.
When that man lost his

Bronze sword (or died wielding it),
That stone axe
Was already an ancient

Treasure buried in the
Rich soil, awaiting a tractor's
Plow to toss it up into the

Sunlight, thousands
Of years
Later

Hearts of Time,
Ribcage free.
Seeing sun.

I sailed a boat on the cloud of dreams
Fishing for those elusive moments,
Some call them dreams.

I waded through clouds of silent white
Where all that was caught were wisps
Of fleeting wishes that never were delusions

But as white turned to lightness of grey
Then to the throws of harsh reality, as ideas
Became electric striking around me.

I waded through the clouds of turbulent
Moments,  impulsiveness struck upon
Me from above, and I leapt from the safely.

I was in calm white sinking in to oblivion,
Only my thoughts kept me afloat, then I
Relaxed, let go, and sank into nothingness.

I awoke, confusion clouded me as if recalling
That moment a sank beneath, and my thought
Was deluged, but I am here , I wish I was there.