Val Brooklyn Rogers Blk Panther Poet Prose

I Began, I Began

Often times I've laid awake at night thinking.
Thoughts about thoughts and things.
Pondering about BROARDCASTINGS about
Tired troubles.
Pondering that had never occurred to me

Came quickly in the middle of the night and
At times half past three, wondering when
The crickets SONG would end.
Thankfully early dawn my thoughts 
Wandered on.
Not a minute to blink. 
 My eyes still open.
CONCENTRATION unbroken.

A spot on the ceiling above
I watched with admiration.
Reflected light on an adjacent  wall
Thought to call at a quarter past
Five.
Well, if nothing else, I was alive.
Not so for some who had met  their

Demise in the middle of a restful
Slumber.  But me, not a wink 
Of it.  I survived the night  to greet
The day  and fit my ideas  of words
In RHYME.
THIS  WILL BE a pleasant day. 
A  FEBRUARY CARESS of SOMETHING
FRESH.

A WHISPER OF POTENTIALNESS.
A  BEAUTIFUL YAWN,  Then I BEGAN, AGAIN.

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