The Beckoning

I wake to the sound of birds

and a light peeking through the curtains.

Both sound and sight beckoning me to indulge

in the gloriousness of the the day to come.

The sky a winter shade of blue;

the air crisp, but not yet cold;

a tiny hit of green still hidden

from all but the most observant;

and a Sun that offers to warm

everything it can touch.

I rise with excitement and energy

infused from the joyful birds and beautiful light,

then hit the wall;

made of mud and grief and unbearable reality.

There is nowhere new to explore,

and even if there were, there's no money to get there.

Worst of all, what would be the point,

when there is no one to share the adventure.

In a blink, the world that held such promise

becomes a 2 sided blade

that slices with it's false promise.

So, I pull the covers back over my head

drift into comforting memories and future illusions

and the world once again fades to black.

(c) R. Franklin