Night is Day

A sense of dawning ere cometh dawn—
It stirs in me when my mind turns on,
When I wake and see all the stars so bright
And I think the thought that I thought last night,
But was half complete as I fell asleep,
But now moves surely, strong and deep.
I stretch my fingers and touch a star;
Grab pen and paper for things afar;
I flick a switch and the light is on
With sense of dawning ere cometh dawn.

My day burns through and my sun is high,
My pen a shaft of creative sky;
The clouds of doubt depart away
And I say what I say I say I say.
The ring and the rhyme of the words is strong;
Their meaning moves, too, like beautiful song—
The spoken speech an ideal true
As glorify I all my love for you.
My pen and my joy are the clear wide sky
As my day burns through and my sun is high.

Now back to sleep I am falling fast;
My work is done and my day is past.
The stars grow faint and the sky is light
And dawn is here as I say goodnight.
The switch is flicked, the curtains drawn;
The pen rolls off the table—gone.
The paper stirs in a wayward air,
And round my lips love murmurs fair.
My work is done and my day is past;
Now back to sleep I am falling fast.

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