Time twirling…

quince
early rising quince
 I’ve been wishing
for more sand
in my
hourglass,
that there was more
day
at the end
of
each turning.
forsythia
early rising forsythia
Or that I was one of those
wiry women,
light and sprightly,
 who seem to lilt along
on just a few
hours
of sleep.
I’ve tried
to be
her.
apple blossom
early rising peach blossom
I love the early mornings
for a few days.
and I wonder
why I’d given up
on 5:30 a.m.
 The feeling
is
euphoric!
And then I hit a wall.
early rising crabapple
 Not like a fairy
or firefly either.
Not a dainty bump
or boink
.
No, I hit the wall hard
like a drunken sailor
with lead feet.

It’s discouraging.

But with our business tugged
out of hibernation
weeks sooner this year
by the wildly early warming,
my hourglass seems short
on sand.
Please
dance
with me,
Father Time.
daffodils
early rising daffodils
  Right here and now,
surrounded by unfinished,
undone things
please sway with me,
hugged up close
to I AM.
I want to let go
and flow,
 the sands of time
between my toes,
and feel relentless hours
 yield
and stretch
and give
as if my twirling
pulls them like taffy
until long
and strong
and thin.
I want to quit struggling
against the sand,
and trust the One
who sifts it thin
to press my cheek to His chest instead,
and dance through time
with the Ancient of days
and lean my ear
against His heart
beating out
an early rising rhythm
(stretch-stretch…stretch-stretch
….stretch-stretch)and whispered

words of wisdom
….Be.
~just let it be.
rise and shine