Awake at Dawn

Sunrise on Kauai, December 2017 (Not sure who took this picture, my husband or I)

 The last thing I read at night was Dawn by Frank@BeachWalkReflections where he described dawn as a free magical moment that too many miss. I ended my day with an innocent question within – why do I miss most of the sunrise moments in this lifetime?

I was awakened the following morning at the crack of dawn with the eerie feeling that I have become accustomed to, as a cue to start typing because a poem or something like that needs to be given the way out. I hope you enjoy reading it below. Always infinitely grateful to have your thoughts on what takes up space here.

I was awake at dawn
I stayed in bed
Resting my head
Taking some deep breaths
I won't open the curtains
I want to curl up deep inside my own womb
I can feel my belly alive
The baby me held in her turmoil

I refuse to see the light
I need to nurture this one within first
I want to hold her, send her a full breath
One after the other
Soothing her, loving her
Making her feel safe
Letting her know I see her
I understand her

I want her to be nourished with my loving presence
I want to be in this dark cave
Until she gets what she needs
She is worth the wait
The curtains can be opened very late
She needs to feel her own beauty within
Before the light floods in

I was awake at dawn
Wondering if I should be out there
Witnessing the magical beginning of the day
Yet I could feel her tug
More a churning and a yearning
For that unconditional unattached hug
So I stayed in bed
Resting my head
Taking some deep breaths

I did wonder how long?
For an amazing beauty of the morning awaits
There is no hurry I decided
My womb had just now begun to melt
To become this assured part of me
The morning can continue to grow into the day
Just like the baby me is continuing to grow into my person

Someone else decided to open the curtain
I looked up out the window
The light was bright and yet quite mellow on me
Both baby me and I, just One, now could finally smile
Both received so much from each other
We are now a ball of tenderness and a fullness
Comfortable in one skin
Hopefully not as thin but still permeable
To all the love that we can receive from the light of the day

I pray we both stay merged enough 
When we are awake at dawn of another day
To open the curtains and soak in the beauty 
of what awaits us in a magical way

P.S.: I have found Frank’s Beach Walk Reflections very enjoyable and contemplative to read as he brings alive so many aspects of the beach, ocean, sand and everything associated. I hope you also visit his site.