blue night treeAwakening

In the sameness
I forgot who I was
Counting the hours
Learning a new language

It is like the obeisance of me
To hold a fallen sparrow
To touch the coral ocean bloom
To gather roses
With exuberance
To carry each
Over the transom
Desiring in some unrealistic way
To preserve each
Realizing later
It is perhaps in greater depth
A type of self-preservation.

Bless the soul
Along the way
Who pulls me back
By the collar,
By the ear
Who culls me
Back to the scoured fair
Who reclaims me
To my truest self
In gentility and compassion
I have needed you
For my awakening.