DAWNING

In early dawn
when dreams disown me;
once the ashes of the crucible
have lost their glow…

Darkness still grips the air
wanting, like most of us,
only to survive.
Hours, not years, mark the tempo for its time.

There are things on earth
that live for fewer hours
and haven’t the time
for dreams, or lies.

If I were such a creature
I would move with greater conviction;
but I am a maggot of a different nature,
claiming transformation.

The ‘morphasis,
I testify,
is catalyzed not by effort,
but by time.

Still, an aging larvae,
I count the minutes
while clinging, with the darkness,
to the dawn.

Think of Phlebas,
you the Tired and the Burdened,
who floats lifeless in the waters
that fed his life force year to year.

My buoyancy
is of a lesser nature,
floated on the leisure
of those ashes when they glow.

© 1998
B. Vincent Hernandez