DAYBREAK SONATA, FIRST MOVEMENT

The first song in my mind was what put me to sleep last night.
In my room, I'm staring at the color of midnight. It is dawn.
The lack of visibility and the languor to switch on the lights
Are just a perfect combination to augment my deaf perception.

I'm so used to the sound of daybreak.
My neighbor's chicken cock-a-doodling.
Forks and spoons in the kitchen clinking.
Sunny side-ups on a fry pan sizzling.
Man's best friend, at an early stranger, barking
Maya birds, from the leafless guava tree, chirping.
Jeeps, some in high-pitched whistles, belching.
In the clouds, a huge airbus hovering.
And the person next to me, breathing.
Or my own breathing. Or my thoughts breathing.
I just can hear my tiring thoughts breathing.

Nothing's more deafening than the bees in my bonnet,
Where, despite a last song syndrome and all those noise,
My sunup is pre-occupied by my own deafening fixations.
Thoughts that struggle hard to recall yesterday,
But thoughts that hope harder for a better today.
Or tomorrow. But tomorrow's still another daybreak away.

My mind wanders with my eyes still closed.
All the sounds I heard just recur.
I'm so used to the sound of daybreak.
Perhaps I'll cut my thoughts some slack tomorrow. #

photo credit: paintingmania