The Way We Rise
Here is to the unraveling of everything on a nightbeam,
to the seers and the truths they can’t unsee,
to the unwanted/unavailable/undiscovered
here is to the nighttime that knows you.
Here’s to the stairwell knife symphony,
to the jukebox in reverse.
Here’s to brilliance,
here’s to it’s curse.
Here is a toast to the toaster waiting to turn,
to breathing backwards until you’re not born,
to the musk of another expiring night,
to the cuckoo clock splashed with shimmering light.
Here is to a sunbeam’s persistence…
to the everything in a sliver of dawn!
Here’s to the gravity,
to the rising grass.
To the schemers, the sleepers, the self deceivers,
to the dreamers, the seekers, and all the believers.
Here is to this revolving miracle:
to the sunrise on repeat.
To the triumph of the morning dew,
to the routine of this early air,
here is to daylight:
daily and delightful.