The Dawning

Those who know me well ... family and friends ... will be surprised to find I've written somewhat favorably about the beginning of the day.

Mornings have generally not been easy for me.

But this poem is not just about morning. It's about the experience of returning to an awareness of surroundings, discovering "words already dancing/ across the softly-lighted/ ballroom of my mind," of being on the verge ... after all that struggle ... of beginning to put words on paper.

Yes, it speaks to me about what I like best, writing, that activity which takes over after that "ballroom" activity, the real "dawning" that occurs with the writing itself.

The poem:

THE DAWNING

When the earth is still

hovering between sleep

and consciousness, when

birdsong is finding voice

and a distant bell

sways in the gentle wash

of sound, I come floating

out of a recurring dream,

yawning, stretching, eyes

struggling in darkness,

feet reaching cautiously

for the reality of floor,

words already dancing

across the softly-lighted

ballroom of my mind.

© 1999

(originally published in Sisters Today)

***

Today's word: yawning

Afterthoughts ... in response to your comments:

Oh, I like it, too, Featheredpines ... when the words go waltzing smoothly across the "ballroom of the mind" ... but when they start jitterbugging (now there's a term from the previous century) ... that's when I know it's going to be a rough morning.

Thank you, Helen, for bringing my slightly bumpy day to a smooth landing with your comment. I'm delighted that you like these little pieces I've pulled together and posted here.