Days
Days sneak up on the sleeper,
Either anticipated, or scorned
To the pessimist, they are dwindling,
And to the bright eye—they carry on beyond our selfish minds
Upon the wakened dreamer,
Days draw on in a smiley haze,
Keeping one buoyantly bouncing inward
Outnumbered and overlooked—he is opulently occupied elsewhere
To the seeker of truth,
Ancient, though ageless are the days before him
Crouching along the edge of tomorrow—seeking always more…
As days billow like robes cooling long-trod legs gainst the Eastern sun
And to the beasts and birds,
Feathers, claws, snout, muscle and bone— all harmonize
Instinct and passionate drive hurling precious life onward,
Their days meander freely, like knowing feet on familiar ground
For the contest “Days”
Sponsor: Thomas Martin
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015
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