The angel sings when the stars pop

180 degrees upward,

tilt your head

upward

and

onward.

A flutter of wings may stir inside

as the asterism of Ursa Major broaches the night sky.

Clusters of glowing dust may just have ignited the incentive of jewelry;

the way

they dance and sparkle

could have sparked the first necklace...

ever in history.

So,...

sip, sip, stir, sip, one more stir...

this cup of joe just is not doing it.

The tremble of my sleepy hand

carries the carafe past the stream of morning light.

Oh, the heavens of this daylight...

maybe a different roast will just do the trick.

Sometimes the daylight only brings on

a certain hibernation:

sleepiness.

sleepy.

not so sleepy.

almost awake.

awake!

Oh, Ursa Major,

make my night my day.

My carafe may be in pieces

but I shan't care more.

I am awake!

What is thy potion?

I ask the cosmos in vain.

Threads of wonder weave into a rope.

An anchor lies at the end.

So, onward and upward...

bend your neck backwards

and tilt your head upward

about...

180 degrees.

Just like an adhesive

Have you ever thought

of flesh

as a form of adhesive?

It is so the truth

as the sun meets the horizon,

I sense a great relief

for that sleep is near.

Maybe be it the glow of night

that aspires the adhesive to loosen

just enough.

Creatures of the night,

creatures of the day,

creatures of the same adhesive:

Different drives,

different lights,

different approaches,

yet the same creatures.

How very interesting.

I love the daylight

as I love the moonlight.

Still, a certain freedom stands about the night.

If anything,

it is like a little bit of freedom

from the sear of daylight.

Valid or not as a rhetoric,

there is a power about the night.

It loosens the adhesive

and

allows a bit of freedom.

Put this in any light you like.

It is the nature you breathe

and bring to create.