A torn page in a book
on a cloudy day------ is this
a disguise for heaven or a 
sign to stay in bed and 
read Ulysses out loud to
the cat purring comfort on
my chest-------listening to 
my heart beat and dreaming 
of a mother she never knew.

Curl warm under the ancient quilt
safe from the damp and grey------
when birds don't fly and
coyotes hunker quiet in their dens
warding off dangerous depression
sadness without a sun 
to warm our courage and 
help old joints to move toward life.

Wake up----- there is no time
to laze about when all life 
churns undeniably forward------
move in to where the
coffee is warm and cognac flow to 
warm weary hearts beyond
self sorrow that will destroy a
hasty heart----- I acquiesce to the
tug at my heart to brave the dark.

Wake up sad heart to the crack
in the clouds and the beam of sunlight
that rejects such a foolish funk--------
there is no time to languish about 
when there are words to be organized
into pensive thought or
hypotheses yet undiscovered or
roads not yet traveled where
new galaxies are discovered and
new lives are unlocked.