Five in the morning
feels fresh
and new,
as if
the world has
renewed itself
overnight,
and left
the early morning air
feeling
pure and untouched
against my skin,
within my lungs.
This is air
that the events of the day
have yet to fill;
it is a blank canvas,
whispering its request
to my soul:
for art to be
designed, created,
born, and painted
across its timespan.
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 4:36 PM UTC
Five in the morning
feels fresh
and new,
as if
the world has
renewed itself
overnight,
and left
the early morning air
feeling
pure and untouched
against my skin,
within my lungs.
This is air
that the events of the day
have yet to fill;
it is a blank canvas,
whispering its request
to my soul:
for art to be
designed, created,
born, and painted
across its timespan.