Friday, December 17, 2010

The waking mind



the waking mind slides gently into place, 
a distant ante room - shows one arrived
who hands to me a tray of half made thoughts
that nestle close with velvet shells.
Slow awareness forms a shape 
as birdsong drifts on half-lit air.

the sense of bed will enter low,
for warmth and comfort permeate
my fuddled thinking, making ranks
of proper things, that uninvited to my head; inflate.
Another  murmmers close beside  'can you see, 
is that a cobweb or a play of morning light?