Early Morning Wish

if i could freeze

all your worries

in a single teardrop

of early morning dew,

so it disappears

in sparkling anonymity,



and perhaps

the whole lot

whisked away

by early dawn's

last tendrils

of cool zephyrs

when touched by

blissfully peeking

warmth of sunlight,



then i could,

perhaps,



soothe your

psychic ravines,

into gently rolling

fields of cogon,

swaying in the breeze

with an invitation

to breathe freely.



To breathe deeply

of what has been here

before us and before

our equally-as-stooped ancestors,

since time-awakened,

thrumming with an age-old rhythm

that intertwined,

with all sapient,

and ancient,

weaves and dances.



if only for a moment,

then that dream-spurred

frown fade

and unaccustomed smile

light up,

in the midst of our

warm nest of

yesterday's laundry and

converted sofa cushions,

complete with our children

in different

derring-do pantomines

of drowsing adventure,



and dream softly.

by Fernando Ayala

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