THE PRIVILEGE OF SUN RISE
I wake, happily, at 5:30. I will again see the show beyond compare. In stark contrast to the mornings I filled with moping or sober angst, shades of the same dark color, I shuck my covers, bathing and dressing with purpose, and propel myself forward. I hate to miss the first act. Dawn, the tint of clouds dusky and sweet. I’m on my route; I start my open-eyed prayer. For all those living at the hands of an addict, Be with them. Please. For the addicts, help us all to fail fast.
I scan the horizon, checking all the views. I reflect on the striking change, earthbound green and gold, sky held pink, orange and blue. The silhouettes of trees exquisitely lit from behind, the sweet moon sharing the sunrise with me, add to the pleasure of my drive. I start my gratitude list. Beginning with my sobriety...each moment, the people, the life, the thinking, the feeling, and my ability to share it all with you.
Don’t become overly fond of nothingness for it may consume you.
Born crazy, is that better than becoming deranged?
Do birth affects excuse my unrepentant glee?
Does irrepressible sardonic wit
explain the order of restless exposition?
Can you count on Cicadic enthusiasm to carry me,
or flightless fancy to keep me down?
I am beyond redemption, beyond reception, beyond device.
I arrived riddled with chaotic cracks,
but I am more than just a glaze
and deep down I’m more than sound,
So walk with my wild side
and your thoughts I’ll rearrange.