Sleep\'s Acres..
Dawn hangs on the trees, force slivers floorward,
slips into sleep\'s acres,
turns shade to tailgates of light over which rays
snipe at quiescence
before sunrise leaps in to move bleary dreamers
to wide-away doers.
Day breaks to bathe passive eyes in forewarning
for blindness precedes
flashes of conscious surrender to sight\'s inertia\'s
as sweet stupor
casts veils over seeing but breath catches gasps
when still becomes movement.
Ears mistake dozy whispers for proactive reality
when senses rouse
to feel Heaven\'s infinity ticking away more hours
making the richer
seconds remaining for flight\'s drowsy treasure as
night hooks day to its use.
Time to get up Dreamyhead, I suggest to myself.