each night, I wonder if the Sun’s already forgotten
this Morning
I beat it to the starting line in its own game
I’ve been around the world a few times
so I know the Light catching up to me
has already completed its pilgrimage
through deserts, rainforests
cities so foreign, I am convinced
they only exist in the imagination
of those who dare–far more glorious
than what my, mine, mind could articulate
I wish there was a reason
for drawing inspiration
from this Darkness outside my window
that I try to write Morning Light into.
each successful Morning is followed
by an imbalance of the rhythm
of time, tasks, terror, tame, tendency
in each hourly space of the day.
I’ve been around the world so I know
it doesn’t take a Sun to humble you in your endeavors
what if you’d given your life for this passion?
what about those investing more than you can imagine?
3 hours of divine sleep or power naps
can’t be traded for anything
at the gates of death, and life
every Morning, I wait for the Sun to be written
into existence to compete a man with a dream
my shadow runs, a smirk on its face
it looks back, Daring me.
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