I lifted my heart to the morning and
Drank the sun from the shadows,
While fragments of dreams still lingered
In my grateful soul.
I reached out, deliberately, and began to climb,
My nervous fingers
Seeking purchase on the ghosts of thought,
Fine wisps of idea that might disperse without a warning.
I climbed inside my curious mind and my willing body followed,
Eager to wear a warm cloak of comfort,
Welcoming the brazen kiss of creativity.
Thought butterflies, they graze my flesh with
Wings of glass and prick me with their persistence.
They lift and land and leave with them small moments of great clarity and understanding.
Here now I climb the mountains of myself,
To reach higher up and look farther out.
To see the world and not merely let the world see me.
I lift my heart each day to the morning,
To catch the butterflies before they fly away.