this patter in the morning is invading my dream
my waking is adulterated by strange symphonies
what world is this which I am opening my eyes to?
The first light of spring
the first unfolding unfurling
of a snow white bud
as each tendril of sunlight winds
herself through the blinds of my eyelids
an excited bride
a newborn baby
the first flight
to somewhere
meeting my world face to face
how could I not want to tame her
into my own vision
and she shows me
her utter rebellion
and we laugh at one another
and the irony
of it all.
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