Inspired by a picture

I’m only posting this on Stonegauge the site because I’ve discovered I placed a bit of my writing here that I don’t have hard copies of on my own computer. This poem was inspired by a photo taken from bed. I’d post the picture but I never know if the site is going public again or not, and the picture is private — not that kind of private! Get your mind out of the gutter!

Dawning

The sandman relents and unbinds me from the lashings of sleep

Dispatching me into the cobwebs of consciousness and the first embers of morning light

For a brief instant, I struggle with my bearings

The illusions of fading dreamscapes and the shadows of dawn mingle and embrace

Yet the quandaries and anecdotes of the previous day start to encroach and materialize as thoughts

I am, again

The oppression of looming responsibilities fill me with dread,

All the doubts and challenges of my waking life amble back to their designated positions

Provoking me to roll over, as if to hide within waking delirium and unkempt bed sheets from the benign malice of becoming aware

I open my eyes

Before me lay a perfect tangled mess of bliss

Placid in her unconscious state, dug comfortably into her pillow

I feast my eyes on her every detail: The curly hair that peaks out from beneath her head like wildflowers from beneath a fieldstone, the arches of her eyebrows, the faint wisp of blush she did not wipe away before retiring the night before, and the warmth that she radiates from her being

I behold this sight as majesty and smile

But the moment fades; her brow furrows and nose wrinkles at the insult of her conciouseness sweeping over her like the tide, washing away the sandcastles of her dreams

Her own torturous throes of becoming aware drive her to roll over, turning away and breaking my heart

This treasured vision, the slumbering innocence of my love, has been denied to me by the birth of her new day

I am alone

The day calls to me again, the responsibilities beg my attention as do the comforts of routine

She would meet me soon enough as we chart courses for our day

Yet I cannot bring myself to abandon what I want, what is mine, what I commit myself to in all my waking actions

The one whose presence drives me to be, to do, to live

Renouncing this moment for reality is not to be

Drawn like a bumble bee to a bloom, I bring myself to her in a meandering but deliberate movement

Embracing her from behind, my arm wraps around her bosom and brings her closer to me

Ever so soft, ever so gentle, it’s but one moment in the story of my grander love for her

To feel her snuggle against me, to know that I’ve entered the murk of her morning delirium enthuses me

Her scent intoxicates me, and I feel peace once again

And just before the moment must fade, as every moment on this globe does, she turns to me

Her blue eyes open, awake, aware, and glowing like sapphires in the morning light

Her lips break, like the sun rising over the horizon itself, an eternity of creation that plays out in a blink of an eye

Unfurled before me and for me alone to see is the manifestation of her smile and the glory that it beholds

Brought into being not by routine of the physical world, not by gifts or platitudes, nor through praise or accomplishment

The happiness she finds is within me, drawn from me and what we are together at this moment and in the days and years to come

I am alive

© 2014 John Fontana