In what will be an occasional series, I’ll be taking some of the poetry I’m creating, editing and refining and posting it for a wider audience. This piece is one of over seventy that have emerged from Kim Moore and Clare Shaw’s January Writing Hours.
Have a restful and reflective Sunday.
Morning I am beginnings of bright, cold day night before now embers, burnt away sitting, cooling in the grate knowing that their fire has served its task. I am detritus of what passed between wood and sky, fire and air two spaces, different days aware significance, progression, marked in place. This is epiphany, changes begins different viewpoints come to bear fallow land, for years, will now begin growth, emergent happiness from truth. I was that thing before, now I am not those moments taken, buried forgot: fresh fuel of effort transformed into joy morning’s optimism, as then, sun breaks through.
The Internet of Words 