Cindy's Poetry Corner: Morning Moment

Morning Moment

It's a little bit quiet
in the early hours of morning
When the light quietly  filters in.

Through cloudy damp ridden skies
the light still finds its way
to awaken the world.

The moment is ready
as the world turn from night
to day
this is the time when anything can happen.

The same can be said
of the deep night,
where the dark enfolds
you is a cold embrace.

There is a blood beating pulse
that courses through one's veins
in that coldness.

I feel more of my fingers and toes
when it's cold
and dark
and there is nothing confusing my senses.

There is an awareness
with the night
that is often pushed aside
and left for warm beds.
The night is far more alive
than the morning,
when the sleepiness rests
against your eyelids.

To me,
both are equally aware
and equally alive, especially during winter,
when the cold blows much harder
and you steel yourself from the bite
of Winter's teeth;
one is just arising
beating with a youthful exuberance,
while the night is a slow, demanding
rush to finish
before one gets too cold to move.

Either is valid
and just as strong in it's compulsion.
I am just glad to know both as I do.

12/26/2013   6:58 pm