8:11am

In the early hours we speak;
Your words break the chains
of the previous day.

The language of rest
resides and resonates
within this chary heart.

I am transmuted,
from state to strength
in a time so unassuming.

While upon the mattress,
a quiescent air descends
From spackle to carpet.

And intellect cannot reason
with a sagacious spirit
and an impalpable embrace.

8:07am

You are not a shadow,
You are the shade.

In the midst of a storm,
You are neither thunder,
nor lightning,
but the sweeping rain.

You are not lost at sea,
You are the halcyon waters.

And when you lay your head to sleep,
You are not the nightmares you dream.
You are the prayers that you pray
In the light of morning's wake.

7:03pm

For a lover of words
I find they fall short
and fail to fall out,
out from my mouth
simply to say
those words to convey
warmth and welcome,
instead, they shy away
stay in my brain --
those tricky words
always falling short
never tumbling out
fencing me in
kept with my doubts.

8:52pm

Five chambers;
An abnormal state
Four normal;
One out of place.

Three odd beats
Never quite the same
No rhythm
Of steady pace

Two reports
Which differ greatly
To explain
The rarity

The first blames
Awful luck and birth
A write off
Not to be turned

The second -
Well, does not define
but accepts
imperfect design.

7:25pm

Magic, like moving corridors,
The sliding panes uncover
Heated hues of hills and creeks
Pink pervades the waters.

This is the place --
The very spot,
To be kissed by a warm moon
And it lights me up.

Glow now as an ember,
Tiny flickers of brilliance;
Catch the colours
Chase the chill away.

8:00pm

Over the horizon
Over the city
Over the white scuffle
of run over clouds
I am there
Watching and waiting
Wishing and praying
Wistfully wondering
where my wandering might take me.

And would the sky be any wider,
any more golden
or exponentially wonderful --
with the addition of you.

We're paving paths in the wind
whether you know
and whenever I go.

11:17pm

The thing about perspective is
you only have your own -
it can shift from here to there
but you're still seeing
from one side

The thing about life is
all we need is a little perspective
but we have to make do
with our spot in the room.

12:05am

I don't remember the starting line
or when the pistol shot
I was already in the race
before I learned to walk

I don't know how to keep the time
-- the seconds, minutes, hours
Every day a different pace
The miles pile on with power

I cannot see far up the road
but I know - I'm running out of pavement
So while my heart's against the wind
I'll not think once of caving

8:51pm

I scribbled a few thoughts on paper
I threw it away
Scraps of letters in a wastebasket
line the walls of plastic

And would it not be fantastic
if this meant nothing more
than a moment of frustration
but it is a sorry metaphor