This morning dawned, a crisp thing
between :21 and :22
the drowsy sits -
on lids, on chest;
sheets crumpled
a paper weight of self resting on this cotton
i am a thousand and one anatomical processes
being-
the alveoli softens within my chest cavity
and the day and i open ourselves up together
"give me this day
more of you -
be present in my now;
follow me, hem, as you do
make the boundary lines stark
be behind,
before, beneath, above-
make this crooked day
straight"
i catch my own glance, bedside
it is a wonder to know that
each line of self was hand-crafted
each rhythmic stride, placed
each lash, crinkle
the soft bits, the taught ones
"just so, just there,"
i imagine He smiles - his fingers dipping into heavenly craft-wells -
each day, shaping vessels for His story to unfold within.
this is a wonder to behold-
this–
the stardust of self
to hold value to the one who named the Skies
and placed the saltwater Current on its track
it is enough.
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