Digital Art by : Louisa Azevedo
When morning withdraws
its saber from the moon’s heart,
wild things stir to drink the blood
of dreams, to taste hope in its innocence.
In the ethereal unrest of rising - visions
swim the edge of alarm clock’s routine
playing tug of war with alert and sleep’s siren.
Cautiously plans shape-shift from vague
into clarity…The stag leaps from the calendar
erasing familiar with the urgency of change.
Comments
..
That first line is violent, visceral and wonderfully reckless. The rest of it is divine.