Quiet Mornings

I look through this sapphire stained glass, and I see myself.
This is the art of life.
Take my hand, and walk with me through this silent residence.
Watch the fire rise up in the distant skies below the heavens
The dark ones, who seek us in a vengeance - fail again.
An insurmountable amount of silence rests in me.
I am composed, and in discussion.
Galaxies of wonder organize in my thought.
My knees start to give
I am drowsy, and weak in character
Those mystified eyes fixed on me.
Sip upon the coffee, and become one with me.
And embark upon the issues of life before we go about our day.

Poem by J.A.D. © 2002