The Awakening

5:00 am      
     
Sometimes, before the world wakes the spirit      
walks quietly, lingering in dormant hallways      
between nocturnal stirring, intently listening      
to soft streams of blood through corpuscled      
tunnels for the Source to oxygenate venous      
red from the womb's blue pulmonary warmth.        
     
Sometimes, before birds wake the spirit rises      
through a lily pond of leaves where a tree was,      
reflecting its ghost edges of limbs and nests.      
All created possibilities from the was and has-      
been to all the births of each new will and      
wanna-be are no more than this very moment:      
     
Paint-flaked steps, chilly feet, the air I breathe;      
my sentient heart standing guard over your sleep.        
     
~