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Sumi 5d
of birds

this morn

anchor my soul

this day, this life

these sounds of grace


thank you thank you

to feathers and wings

all those who sing

bring in this sun

this light, this

ray of

love
Steve Page May 10
Swig the morning dew
Join song amongst the blackbirds
This is vintage spring
Magazines strewn amongst,                                                         ­                         
                                       ­                                                                 ­            
mis-matched coffee cups,                                                            ­          
                                                                ­                                                  
white rings on the tabletops,                                                       ­                                 
                                                                ­                                                      
We are just getting
up                                                               ­                                             
                   ­                                                                 ­                                  
You yawn & look at me,                                                              ­                  
                                              ­                                                                 ­                making your way, groggily,                                                        ­                        
                                        ­                                                                 ­         
rub your eyes sleepily                                                         ­                   
                                                                ­                                                       
  as we exchange, ''good
  morning ''                                                               ­         
                                                                ­                                                
Hair sticking up in the air,                                                             ­           
                                                                ­                                              
neither one really cares                                                            ­              
                                                  ­                                                           
 Noisily pulling out a
  chair,                                                        ­                  
                                              ­                                                                 ­ 
both of us, with feet
bare                                                             ­                 
                                               ­                                                                
Coffee smells
permeate,                                                        ­                        
                                                                ­                                                    
as it drips &
percolates,                                                      ­                                    
                            ­                                                                 ­             
begging us to take a
taste                                                            ­                      
                                                                ­                                               
  Aren't Sunday mornings great?
Turn out the lights
catch the night’s bequest

Train your eyes on the horizon
sunrise is approaching

Notice how blue is shading
from deep to pale

There are no shadows
Cast by the moon
Hiding behind the clouds

Sounds reverberate from
an airplane drifting
to a landing

Morning’s quiet
regains the stage

Until a Robin chirps
a wake-up call

Sunrise is approaching
advancing from east to west
lighting the sky

Rocks whiten to become obvious
against the pallid grass of winter
robbed of nutrition by the cold of January

No orb announces today
the sun is rising, although hidden
behind dense condensation

The orange orb of the sun
will not flood the skyline

The fever of night
has become the pale of the day
Written Jan. 2021
Maria May 2
It’s morning. I woke up. It’s hatefully grey.
I’d close my eyes and go back to sleep.
Thoughts wander around me like chimeras
And weave their nets from all sides of me.

I think I’ll make one of them just a reality:
I’ll make some coffee, there’s no other way.
The day won’t work out without coffee.
And there’ll be a mess in my head anyway.

I’m up. What a nebulous nasty morning.
It shamelessly drives me crazy at all.
And why did I suddenly feel wholly
That I know all about myself?
What a fool?

What a phenomenal wacky silliness!
What a criminal irrational nonsense!
I thought that tomorrow is really fatal
As it was in the same way for years.

And what is in point of fact?
Where’s tomorrow?
All colors around me are totally dim.
I try to find my previous strong energy,
But only monotony is all-around me.

It was so simple yesterday, but now it’s ugly.
My coffee’s sneezing. It’s got a cold.
Well, I’ll go to live just like that, don’t look behind.
And I will live as long as I can, with no support.
Thank you very much for reading it! 💖
Bekah Halle Sep 2024
Morning dew glistens
Like Tiffany's diamonds,
As the sun rises
Promising a spectacular day;
God’s creation shining and
Brings glory!
#dew #glistens #diamonds
Vitæ Apr 27
The sun leaps
into responsibility

freshly pressed and dripping
another delectable day

into me.
Though sleep knows

and has always known—
I am still not ready.

Under a spell
of honeyed flowers,

I have dissolved
into the dew of night,

limbs disguised
under a river of silk,

stitched together
with the same spider

that spun the night
I spun myself in.

I know better than
to stay in this cocoon,

untwined enough
to slip one foot

into the hyacinth breeze
and unthread a hundred dreams

from heavy eyes.
What keeps me occupied is

to finish the day that has
yet begun,

to bat the unease out of
creased pillows

and shake the fears too,
so all dust surrenders

to the peace
between everything.

I let my shadows dance
on porcelain walls

and into
the infinite window,

where the oldest light
that silently lights

the distant meadow fields,
lights the cracks of this room

and waits—

and continues to wait
for me.
“The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. Don’t go back to sleep. You must ask for what you really want. Don’t go back to sleep. People are going back and forth across the doorsill where the two worlds touch. The door is round and open. Don’t go back to sleep.”

“A Great Wagon” by Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks
Larry dillon Apr 22
You smile as my iris go wide,
watching me stir wake to the realization
you are once again by my side.

In another life I would've jumped out of bed.
But in this one I am paralyzed;
I'd rather lay here with you instead.

Its not often we find ourselves lost to time
like this.  
A soft caress, a kiss.
Your head nestled on my chest.

You close your eyes
slipping-it seems-back into deep rest.

I like moments like this best.
Its the greed in me that ponders how to
prolong this state of superposition.
Not really asleep nor awake.
The world hasn't claimed stake over us yet.
With dejected protest,
my mortal form rejects the cold logic
that this scene- like a dream,
no beginning or end, only lasts
a few seconds more.
You yawn and I gleam how this will all change.
I feel the heat of an asteroid erasing
my world of the dinosaur.

You tease as you stretch,
something about how loud I snore.
In our sunday morning jest I see
infinite solutions,
stitched together, like the seam work
of your favorite duvet.

(With all these diverging paths,
how can I only pick one way?)

I know what's coming next,
can hear what you will soon say.
It's reverberating in my ears already
as you ponder the problem of wasting away
on this lovely,
summer day.

Your form is obscured from my vision.
A silhouette deciding between jeans or a dress.
Fighting with your hair, proclaiming it a mess.
The whole of you obscured by the wall partition.

You blow a frustrated raspberry which
makes me smirk.
Mutter under your breath,"I guess this will work."
I hear you ruminate in the restroom,
pairing accessories with a flowery blouse and a pencil skirt.

All the while humming a tune from a song
we both know.

Its time now.
Time to let that sliver of a scene we shared earlier go.
I can feel warmth through our window.
that moment I loved has grown into something new,
and I'm left with the dissatisfaction-no,
that is a childish reaction:
even though that scene is gone I know I tried.

Fully dressed in the doorway she chimes,
"what would you like to do today?"

I cover my head.
Playfully hide in the shelter of our
satin white sheets.
Shaking my head from left to right.
A seance with the ghost of where she used to be.

I can't decide.

-
A story of a gentle moment captured between two lovers and a young man's inability to make a decision.
Hot water lap dance
Feeling quite comfortable
Tide urges me onwards
Line fishes for something
Along edges of mountainous
Erupting horizons vapour dissolving
Passing clouds blue sky thinking
Revision of indignant existence
Not feeling much for a while
Pittance good riddance and guile
World revolving around the child
Locked inside away from myself
Disconnected coming up with plans
Sometimes prefer doing nothing
Just neglecting my health
That’s okay still alive to tell the tale
Now just need to execute in the name of sacrifice
Make the journey up to now worthwhile
For every moment of doubt and pain
Hope and distraught freedom
Despite the shame already
Would be even worse to waste
The opportunity have been given
So let the gift not be in vain
kim Apr 17
A white flower
Has bloomed on my porch
Small glistening raindrops
Fall below it
Seeping into the grass and its concrete
The morning sun shines
Over the horizon
Wishing better days
To those below
I think of you
As the mist blinds my eyes
As the crow cries at the mourning
Today the sun shines
Between the dense pillows
And masks the glint between my pupils
Give me your thoughts. Have a good day :)
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