LOPSIDED GRACE

! Stir under a blanket o’ morn while the unraveling of a dream signals my arms t’pull back the rumpled fabric of sleep that covers me. I conspire for so much more...

In that moment it is like being a little leaf of self-described euphoria that hangs for a while on its bough; it dances invisible pirouettes before breaking loose –

Borne with a flamboyant twirl, and jostled by pulsing fingers of sunrise, my kiss to a new day bounds me together with your global spirit - ! am spinning from the planetary whip of the sun's extraordinary quantities of "be here now” which ! find t'be all beyond explanation... AND yet, ! rise to this occasion, always golden but often without destination.