Darkness has not yet lifted
from the night of a waning moon.
This is the time of discontent
when one feels most alone, but soon,
the sun shall rise.
Others choose to sleep through darkness.
I cannot. Like a lone wolf,
I choose to stay awake, woke to wonder
hidden in all I yet may discover
in people and places I have never known.
I plant seeds of yearning in my soul
that love may take root and grow
beyond my own cultural limits,
beyond the bounds of all I know.
I try to stay awake, though weary,
to watch the new day dawn.
As it surely will.
As it surely will.
As it surely will.
Turn three times and make a wish.
I wish to fearlessly face the heat of these days
with cool calm and laughter so strong
it awakens the entire world.
Will the new dawn reveal
that which was destroyed
while an entire nation slept?
This question is what makes some people
sleep the whole day long.
Their eyes appear open, but they sleepwalk;
perhaps hoping they are dreaming
and the day is a mere nightmare
from which they will soon awake.
I cannot pretend. Not I.
Even in the dark my eyes open wide.
I must see what darkness has wrought.
I tend to the garden I have created,
to the life of growth I have sought,
as the sun rises over roots sorely stressed.
I cannot allow the plants, nor my self, to die
even though they can no longer thrive.
I am awake in the dark, but not alone.
So long as I see clearly, if not cheerily,
the life of other living things all around me
resisting the threat in the day ahead and hanging on.
Sensing our togetherness is what makes us strong.
I watch the discontented dawn.
The sun continues to rise.
As will you. As shall I.
