mists of misery’s memory
creep into my waking soul.
my heart until
sunlight burns sad moments
once recalled from beat to beat.
the soul’s food-
bringing me back to love in light,
the seat of hope everlasting, bright.
the world wakes,
I whisper my truth to the wind,
embracing another day of pretend.
Glorious, anesthetic morning.
copyright words and photo
What do you feel when you see a new sunrise? New opportunity? Another day lost or a chance at success? Beauty, miracle or just another day of work ahead? Tell me what you think!