Morning --- pale and still.

I wake to dawn's

Slow intrusion into night,

Erasing shadows by slow erosion.

Cool, clear sunlight invades the room ---

Wedged between openings in the blinds. . .

Sliced slivers of light

Spilling into darkness

Revealing you beside me

Sleeping, slim and naked,

Etched in shadow and light

Like some immortal sculpture

Alive in a Pygmalion miracle.

By degrees, the morning light

Insinuates a victory in the room ---

Subduing lingering shadows . . .

Urging new revelations

In the slow, constant explosion

Of your beauty.

My mind exposes each changing image

To some permanent film of memory,

For this moment will vanish

Like a shadow in the night,

And the sheer eloquence

Of your silent beauty asleep beside me

Must fill vacant moments

When love looks through the double gaze of Now

Remembering moments that make us what we are. . .

Delighting in the promise of all we may become.