Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Awoken by Ones Self Clock



Wrestling with the covers to lie as a rustled leaf that has fallen to the ground in falls atmosphere.  The outer contours of feeling begin to stiffen, core sour with warmth, and mind boggled as to why I feel everything in the appearance of thought in an untenable light.

A tactful thought creeps into my day before I step a foot out of bed. 
“We must be our own before we can be another’s.” – Emerson

I collect myself by planning out the day through a series of motions and steps.  
What shall I get from this day, give it in return, leave behind, accomplish, and fail; amongst a fortunes day?  I begin thinking of all the people I love, the thought isn’t measured it’s only the thought of their love.

The weight.

The memory of them I can tell a tail, hum a tune, and sing the love they have given me.  Positive thoughts, that have pounce on nature’s good will, and harmony from people that have etched breathes of life into me.

No comments:

Post a Comment