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WAKENING



My spirit ascends,

To seek the sound it hears,

To merge with sunlight falling softly there,..



I rise in morning bliss,

To kiss the stones rained in mist,

That dreams have made of me...



What wakes me inflames the day,

Spectral light bends the green river reeds over,

With rainbow brains I munch the greenside of the water...



*  *  *

(I got the idea for Wakening by going to bed and being fortunate enough to wake up again.
It happened at that writers' and artists' paradise which is called Ossawbaw,
an enchanting island well off the coast of Georgia.
With all my love and appreciation to Mrs. Sandy West,
and her foundation, for support in 1980.)

- Michael Warren Eliseuson