Once I lived only for dawn and dusk, the rising from bed
and the falling into sleep, how the sky burned away into pink
light in the morning then darkened into a howl at night.
I only ever wanted to be asleep or just waking,
to hold within me as little of the day as possible.
To get through the calendar, that’s what I wanted,
to go from one month to the next
with little awareness of what I was feeling.
Here, where I am now,
the weather changes often.
I can stand in the rain without an umbrella
and be grateful for the way it passes through me
I can be fine in any kind of weather
and stay instead of running.
Some days now it’s enough not to wait for twilight.
To see where the day takes me,
and be glad for its taking,
is a kind of giving.
To rise at the crack of dawn
and not wish for better things.
To reach tomorrow with joy,
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