Softening

Softening

Within the world’s troubled color I awaken,
pushing through the gates of sunrise,
the tense night pictures 
disappearing inside me.
I fight the knot forming inside,
the ropy chord after its own blood,
my muscles taut as clockwork,
And I soften.

 

I go outside and sit with my dog,
and drink my coffee beneath the clouds
littering the lawn.
She licks my hand for comfort,
time is of no concern to her.

 

I start to bloom.
My colors melt and run
and I hear the vocal struts of the birds,
as they pulse the stirring air.
I day dream of swimming through a river,
running water glittering through my hair,
as if the water was singing to me 
and I was bottomless too.
The ohm of the day
like roses damp 
with half forgotten rain.

 

Just bend a little 
I tell myself,
just breathe in the sun.
Look long enough beneath the surface,
and you will find connections everywhere.

Then you can move forward
with the day.