the day...the truth

the bright of day

nudged

through morning's darkest hour

forcing my lids to part...

blink and focus

bringing the shadows into form,

lit and clear...

once again

i am awake...

too early to rise

too late to fall back to sleep
too in the know

to ever be blind and dumb again

the vision seen

cannot be unseen

forgotten

or spun into gold

...instead,

it is molded

and ornately designed

to be worn as a reminder

...a bauble of testimony

to the day's newness

to the sun's brilliance in truth

to the unveiling of wakefulness

and it's stark forcefulness

through the night's cradling

i felt cozy...

snug against the

night's quilted comfort

an assent

to yawns of indifference

dreams of escapism

the warmth of my bed

made

and then rustled

fraught with thoughts

of fought intuition

...sought answers

come to fruition

yet,

just like a frail child

preferring pretend

to the present...

when the answers

shine through the twinkling of

an evening's notion,

i beg for shade

for sheets to cover

to block truth's rays

praying for more time

just TEN more minutes

to snooze

resenting the day's

encroaching influence

of the illuminated reality,

and it's gleaming immovability...

i want to roll over

go back to sleep,

pretend this light

is a lucid dream of distortion

and be ignorant to the day

for once...

i want to "sleep in"

...and not deal with what

ALWAYS seems to be

a disruption in my rest

the truth of what it is

instead of what i thought...

what i hoped...

what i needed it to be

...that dozing

half-sleep

sweet unconsciousness

that comes before morning...

BEFORE the truth...rises with the sun

...before i'm rudely awakened

ripped from my sleep

by the bright of the day