Wake

Photo: Invocation at Morning

Remembering September 11, 2001, and looking forward to the ‘new day’ of a better and more peaceful world in every year to come…

Call Me Forth
The invocation begins
as the faintest whispering, barely a
decibel above the ticking of air in
poplar leaves yet unseen in the
indigo-tinged predawn dark.

From a place deeper than imagination,
deeper than dreams, than death,
the call begins to breathe and ascends,
invisible, a wisp of incense made
of the most gracious resins, of
cedar and pine and fir.

That fissure between absolute nothingness
and the invention of life
appears: the horizon.

And lofting on the breath of this
most delicate solemnity, the sky
opens the heavy shade of night, lifts
the lid to open up the eye of day.

I am summoned. At the call, I must
respond; I shall fly upward, will arise.
Though I am the roughest raven of
the night, I stretch my iridescent wings
and sing like the lark of morning.

Digital illo from a photo: Angel of My Better Self

…let us all be the angels of our better selves, wherever the day takes us.

With loving best wishes to Tore, who remains one of the best things that ever happened on the eleventh of September.

Joy in the Morning

digital painting from a photoMorning, Waking

Starting anew with a fresh clean slate

I feel a sense of freedom, youth

A breathing moment where the truth

Is not unlikely, not too late

I have arisen and begun

Not just by law but for desire

Alit with unaccustomed fire

From some oft-hidden ray of sun

These days when age most often stings

The simple joys right out of me

I slake my thirst with ecstasy

When a rare morning-welcome singsphoto montage