by Daniel Peterson
Snap-to, as sine waves pulse through your ears,
the morning creeping and hinterlong shaving
of sunrays through your window grater
burn in protest of slumber's fancy.
Protest of another day, another walk in the same,
the fragile cradle that rocks us all to sleep,
as we walk, the bough takes a break,
and meets with sweet reality.
Look down and meet it, the surface that carries you,
the simple layer that quiets underneath,
and softly begs the walker's heed
to listen to its call.
The listening we've wasted, on things they've said before,
gleans this day from the moments
we've sown here years ago,
and asks why we belong...
Author's Note: This is another weird coincidence thing... I woke up in the middle of the night on 9/10/2001 and wrote this and then went back to sleep... not sure why. I guess when we all woke up the next day it was really the ultimate "wake up call." We needed to take the time out to think about the way we had been treating the rest of the world and the consequences of action/inaction.
Posted on 06/17/2005
Copyright © 2023 Daniel Peterson