The Art of Morning
Upon rising, awakened by
ripening scent teasing my nose,
trilling my lips and tongue, – my taste buds opening
to bird-like songs as dawn's light breathes new life
and hope into my journey, so begins
a fresh flutter of time, an extending
run of exclamatory chirps and wing-full
stretching –
Muse beckons, yielding to artist'
pen and eye – we are co-authors, exchanging
thoughtful leafs and sun-dipped pages; mingling natures,
swapping poetic voice, reversing positions of artist vs model –
conjuring word-images and interactive, painted-canvases – confounding our seasons of
blossoming and harvest, embracing God's budding voice and fruitful manifestations,
His nectar-ed, figurative language, blending human with Divine senses....
displaying contrasts that stimulate exploratory forming
and transitory shading – clearing and clouding
affects both inside and on my outside, as the clutter of
yesterday, and promise of a spring-like showers soak
crusty sediments with saturating, fertile possibilities;
all taking bows – the theater that of spiritual mastery –
Mystery is
my source, my echo, my chambered growth.
My resources, exploitable enclaves of poetic walls, primed,
awaiting both solid and abstract vibrations, energizing
experimental blurbs, those planned and random into searchable
articulations, grasping, too often vainly, for fantastical alliteration
of sterile, common-place views –
I am deepened and ready to let air
we are each our best audience
my left-hand meeting your right
for a brisk clap of inspiration followed
by riotous applause....
Copyright © Joe Dimino | Year Posted 2022
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