3:10 am

I am held in this morning weakness
the slow drift of hope down streams and
its drain of thoughts gravitate
to somewhere endless,
 
where you are

until the day burns
to the nights
failing warmth

 

I still can feel the tingle touch
sparking my spirit to love
and sensing  the sudden quiet
in dumbfounded pauses
where words fall short..

 

where there is nothing to say

but only to feel the screams of our hearts
needing
we are left stark fragile and safe
the release of flames burning time
as it slowed
rendering us both in blue darkness bliss

 

And I remember glazed over glances
the ones just for me....
and dreams born through eyes
set in suns I wished I only woke up to

 

that now, I only write about
only hunger for heaven to just shine
through these doors tired of waiting

though I never am

 

Reviews

[Travis Lawrence]

I like the flow and the line breaks.

"the slow drift of hope down streams and
its drain of thoughts gravitate
to somewhere endless,

where you are"

This reminds me of something I would have written. Well done, I really enjoyed reading this!

[Nicholas Hallows]

There is so much I love about this poem. So many great lines that work excellently as a whole.

'until the day burns
to the nights
failing warmth' - awesome

NH

[Emily B]

never tired of waiting. . . so much of wistfullness and longing.

[Genie]

I firmly believe there's a lyricism that can be found only at this time of the morning -- as if the darkness of the night has its own voices -- and you've done it beautifully here! You've imbued the words with a breathlessness that comes from awe even as it tends to poignancy, and lines like 'dreams born through eyes' only enhance that. Lovely write!