When you know you won't have time at a reasonable hour...you must use any and all unreasonable time. Thus, a 'Good morning poem' for today. Sometimes these get a bit stream-of-conscious-y...
Branches of nighttime
stretched over eyes
stooping and swaying
with archetypal force
the pressure of the dream-end
dimming into dawns new shadows
Bent only on release
the fragrant mask of sleep.
And beneath it
something extraordinarily plain
in both comforting surrender of night
and the cool sweet brush of sun rays.
While copper coins overturn Nations
intent on building things that can never be
The Hero Something waits.
This cacophony of endless steel,
is no place for Heroes.
First someone must polish the coin
not with poison
not to see her reflection
but only to birth a surface which
Only then from between the
diminishing coin pile
out of control growth of Nothing
That little space between
is the opening for Something.
for the Hero to build
Our minuscule shrine,
out of pollution and mis-intentions,
will construct the first of many places
we've always dreamed of
LyndiaP Nov.3, 2010