Half-Baked
I don’t growl in the early morning. When I first wake up is when I’m closest to the unseen. At those pristine hours I am yet to drift away, or to be pulled along in the strong currents of my busy life. Early afternoon is when I begin to grumble, and when I find myself beyond sight of land, or of any gentle space offering me safe harbor. Then evening comes and I turn for home, the only sure place for me to close my eyes, then find my way back to the very precious and mysterious peace of the early morning.
Published in
- Second Communion · April 24‹ A Tenuous OrderMy Poem ›