Funny how we all woke up
standing still
with our arms reaching for the sky
in a blue twilight too young for dawn.

Some mornings it was movement
that dredged our eyes to the vivacity
of sunrise
or sometimes it was soft sounds--
maybe our calico pattering and puffing away
the morning dew across the kitchen floor.
But when we awoke there
all standing together
(shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand)
it was like the assimilation of earth and beyond
had come to pound down our door

That day was to be our
[up]rising
birds singing after a thunderstorm
or water trickling into a desert
we were to be the catalysts
but weren’t afraid.