Threads of sleep quickly slip
between wistful fingers in my mind.
I squeeze tight my flitting eyes
against the tide of conscious intrusion.
But the last still frames of dream scenes fast unravel.
What a mere moment past
seemed to me so blissfully certain
is now illusion
dispersed in sunlit pools that seep in
from behind the curtain.
I rouse to blink away the gauze
that has draped me in morning drowse.
I awake to rhythm of my breathing
to the burn of thirst in my throat
to the burst of life that wells up
beyond these man-made walls.
I am awake.
by Jason Weaver, 2013
Painting, Margaritas Brancas, by Jason Weaver 2013, acrylic on canvas (70cm x 100cm)
Linking up with DVerse poetry blog for OpenLink Tuesday night– a day late but that’s nothing new. Stop by and read some great poetry 🙂 ~peace, Jason