Dawning Creations

Under weighted blanket,
tucked deeply, entirely buried, nestling.

I awake to a sharp rapping on my door.

My knob turns. It’s time!

Retreat shortly upon waking,
and go, going, gone.

Darting around dressers and piles of clothing strewn about.
Whizzing through the house, leaving behind a whirlwind of coffee cups and empty plates.

There’s nothing new, walking down Slocum hill into the quiet Swoyersville streets.

This is our small retreat,
a nightly walk.

God you’re incredible, wild and true.