The day poem

12

May 8 by The Running Son

The day poem

 

What if I decided
to make my day my night.
Switch them.
I mean, the overnight posting of letters
and kisses has its
midnight sort of elegance.
Why not sleep all day
and make nights the time I fight
traffic blocks, perform
soul work, and force heart valves open
to wave others through?

It happens at night:
star-fetched ideas
and far reaching pleas for daylight
to shine into the dark and quiet.

There are no days where moon-riding
writers are not standing by,
day-like and knightly, wishing some
star field silver movement would close in,
wrap them with new wings,
take them to true wind currents, at levels
birds
only dream about in sleep.
All nights have their day, somewhere.
and days have work to do.
Then they must retire each night, and dream.

 

 

 

by Jim Aldrich

12 thoughts on “The day poem

  1. FlutePlayer says:

    Nocturnal senses.

  2. You wrote this with me in mind? What a heart-touching thing to say to me. Hopefully, our lack of sleep doesn’t get the best of us. (smile)

  3. Love how your mind works.

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RFB editor Jim Aldrich, Joshua Tree CA 2013

RunningSon aka Jim Aldrich, Joshua Tree CA 2013 | This site is dedicated with the deepest gratitude to Dr. Cláudio Naranjo, whose writings gave me life.

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