stretch-marks

growing up - growing on

I sleep
for I know not what life
has made of me today
tomorrow 
I shall see
I will feel
I will know
how marks the stretching
of my growth
one day wiser
one night older
I will reach my hands towards the ceiling
and my feet towards the rugged floor
then yawn my dreams
till sleep comes creeping 'cross my day-sunk skin
my morrow meeteth yestern
knowing
feeling
growing
again

Reviews

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

This poem some how makes me think of the spirit as having rings of growth like a tree. Perhaps, this is where the amazing aura of the wise elders comes from. I love the way you forced time to stop in the end at the crossroads of the two days.

[Robin]

oh I like this one ~