Day and night comes much the same
as an evening of time—not ticked,
but slurred one word into the next

like a soloist might his octaves
into prolonged song. Soft and low
at first, a rumbling from a dusty

cave of lungs, a subtle clearing
of the passageways for all things
since the common miracle of rain.

Well-short of whole, she learns
to breathe again, her heartbeat sure
awakens color deep within her flesh

for the moment, and then the next
until she’s fit for more natural activities,
more normal rules for mortals to abide

in her simple service and generosity.
It’s an old tune we have forgotten,
a harkening of high notes for sopranos

and baritones to blaze before us
as she awakens. Dark or light, her each
new breath is ours come back to life.


8 responses to “AWAKENING

  1. That is surely the most beautiful Sunday prayer I have read in many a moon. Merci.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Brilliant. Full of wonder and lack of pretense.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Really nice, John. Love that “slurred one word into the next”.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. “well short of whole” is just brilliant!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks, yeoldefoole. Though fantastic, the rain’s not a solve-all, but at the very least a new beginning, new hope, new dreams — like finding some comfortable old clothes to work in again.

      Liked by 1 person

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