to wake to know nothing
leaves me in bed a trifle
longer than expected
epiphany startles
the dreamer in mauvy prints
softest of imprinting
beginning in the womb-
this need to know, until it
turns on its face:
surrendering
to the pure singing stream
wind, having died down
sky, just beginning
to lighten- we can see through
the northern window
this grace magnified:
however much we fall and break,
the ground is forever
forgiving; full well knowing-
it too walked on legs
held a job, paid bills
Kate Lamberg
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