Soft is this morning
Quiet my bones
Slow my heart beat

An empty space
Rests
Before my sunken eyes

Wait
My spirit
Flutters

Gentle is this morning
It demands nothing of me
Simply begs the question
What will you make of me?

Methodical clock
Beating out seconds
Your hands are driven
Only by energy
Time is not your measure

Energy

Gifted to me
By the universe
To do
To be
Human

Energy
Borrowed from eternity
To do
To be
Human

Energy
I place
Here and there

Infectious
To others

Wandering

Here and there