when the morning comes
some weeks things go by
at such high octane velocity
you end up with a Ferrari in the driveway
engine making your sleep deprived heart awaken and pound in your ears
you turn 16 again and the world feels so full of possibilities and excitement
there is no time to overthink or process in such whirlwinds
you just make gut instinct choices
knowing which thing is the right way
there will be settled moments soon
moments of rest and calm are coming
the new routine includes a kitty eating breakfast in the wee hours of the morning
my new long-term goals include picnics in the thatch roofed treehouse
does that blood red-deep pink sunrise have a message for my poet soul,
as I drink coffee from my favorite cup
on this chilled, side of the longest-coasted-lake-in-the-world?
the answer to that question are these words
freely dripping out to capture life’s beauty attending me into my day
(this, my first poem at this place in the Universe)
yes, I know there will be hard – our days always hold hard and soft,
most usually NOT in equal portions
and so we rate them ‘good’ or ‘bad’
we walk through our years of questions
and our years of answers
sometimes we forget to sing the silly songs of our childhood
until we unexpectedly meet around a table full of laughter
and the words fall out
and we breathe in that easy goodness
which I have come to fully recognize
knowing the sweetness of my recognition
Tomorrow I will start to be happy.
The morning will light up like a celebratory cigar.
Sunbeams sprawling on the lawn will set
dew sparkling like a cut-glass tumbler of champagne.
Today will end the worst phase of my life.
I will put my shapeless days behind me,
fencing off the past, as a golden rind
of sand parts slipshod sea from solid land.
It is tomorrow I want to look back on, not today.
Tomorrow I start to be happy; today is almost yesterday.
Tomorrow by Dennis O’Driscoll (first verse)