How slow my awakening is
in the small sleepless hours,
as I look into a cloudless night
and find no stars a-shining.
My hand is an upturned palm
Gazing at a relentless sky,
A statue of frozen remembrance
Of a gift that has long gone by.
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 1:53 PM UTC
How slow my awakening is
in the small sleepless hours,
as I look into a cloudless night
and find no stars a-shining.
My hand is an upturned palm
Gazing at a relentless sky,
A statue of frozen remembrance
Of a gift that has long gone by.
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