Two Stanzas for Dawn

This heartbeat is me, continuing:

One, two…one two three four—

The song we sing to the illustrious

Dying. There’s more than one way

To get there, many routes to take,

Many routes to know. But we are.

We are more. We can sing.

We can hold the wounded bird

Gently in our hands, feel, and weep.

 

What keeps these things that so

Redeem us?  The constant absence

Of awareness. I seem to have

A mouthful of silence, feeling

More of the night every day.

But I see it now, see it clearly:

I am lost in that darkness,

Lost for many years, just to

Arrive here, and hold the morning.