I awoke this morning.
The low light of the early sun barely making it through the window
Barely making its way
into my
two windows
Eyelids open a sliver
The room before me slowly changing from
singular to plural
One thing
to
many
A room of shadow
giving way to shapes
Edges form
Separation starts
In the early hours
Magic
that has become mundane
Begins
The subconscious incantations that murmur
The quiet hum of the mind’s machinery
a brain
Makes
While a heart
Believes
a world is birthed
From light reflecting off of atoms
Where
in the sea of information
I plot a course
Avoiding the pitfalls I fear
And moving forever toward
my desired