Morning

In this half-light, the light is changing slow

- another day of feeling minor fear;

time is up, and so it’s time to go

seeking, finding little things to know

and feel, confabulate, perhaps to hear;

in this half light, the light is changing slow.

Forever probing language, me and you,

so I can be not me - if I could dare;

time is up and now it’s time to go.

I’ll spout my words but who can tell me how

meaning climbs a spiral or a stair?

In this half light, the light is changing slow.

One day, there will be nothing left to do

except to take another breath of air

when time is up and getting time to go.

Humility’s a constant – God I know -

the need to bend a knee is lurking near.

In this half-light, the light is changing slow.

Time is up and so it’s time to go.