“the unwaking”

i rise to the cold
and to the distant sound of rain,
triumphant in the morning wake.
the birdsong follows me in the showering light!

i amble over stony gravel,
a scratching song beneath my feet.
familiar is the rhythm of the day?

each new morning my heart is unstrung
and must be tuned anew,
for the shifting day,
a file of papers
and words that flow across copper wires.

the hallways are quiet,
warm air rushes about
while this lonely soul beats out a tapping…
racing hands along the lettered board.

but there will be suprises?
and blue vinyl horses
dressed in their sunset orange might.

there will be devices
and words to create.
thoughts to be delivered
to the weary souls aflight.

come back to me now!
oh day that has gone.
forever in the unwaking silence of sound…

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 12/27/11

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