New beginnings. New moments.

Those precious milliseconds as night transitions into day.

 

A winter morning dawns.

Colors slowly begin to return

from the blacks and greys that were owned by the night.

Like an old toy, the spring has been wound,

the lever has been set,

I am launched into motion, without emotion.

 

New beginnings. New moments.

 

Last night, I yielded

to the overlord of the darkness.

The worries that rolled in with the shadows

consumed my deepest thoughts,

and for a few hours, held back the promise of tomorrow.

 

New beginnings. New moments.

 

With the first orange glow of a new day,

I glance into the purple-grey sky

and barely notice how the thoughts that had consumed me

now seemed a bit brighter, though still heavy on my shoulders.

With daylight, bleak thoughts tucked themselves away,

partially dissolved, waiting perhaps for the darkness to return.

 

New beginnings. New moments.

 

There's a crisp stillness in the air

planting the seed of change, perhaps an opportunity

to give myself another chance.

Maybe today. Maybe today.

 

New beginnings. New moments.

 

 

I take a step, with no idea in what direction I am headed.

But with renewed anticipation I gaze about at the world

and marvel at the sights as it passes me by.

I wander through the moments of yet another day...

With new beginnings. New moments.

 

Words and photo Copyright 2012 Greg Bito

 

 

Author's Note

Sunrise thoughts saved for the day after the Mayan calendar comes to an end?

Reviews

[Valentine]

I like the poem..but not all of the chatter about the Mayan calendar..no one knows what will happen in the next moment let alone then..worrying about it only gives premature grey hairs..

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

I do believed you have penned a definiton of HOPE........this is excellent.