This is a time when the sun hangs low in the sky, the moon vanished
When the air is cold and thin, still in the leaves of the trees
And the dew sits upon the grass, soaking the soil beneath
When the birds awake their young, ready for a new day
A time of quaint, earthy noises, which disturb none and shall not be disturbed
Of silence and tranquillity
Reflection and simplicity
A time I miss

This is a time of first thoughts and feelings, of first visions and pending mistakes
Of comfort, of warmth and contentment
And smells, of burnt toast, sweat and urine
A time of alarms, clock radios, incessant beeping
When the whole world doesn’t seem so daunting or confronting
A time of remembrance and solitude
Release and rebirth
A time I miss

I am asleep

When I wake, my world is noisy, agitated, threatening and complicated. The air is thick and the sun shines from above. My world reeks of rubbish and stress and sounds like ring tones and relentless chatter. My alarm did not go off; I overslept. I’ve missed the morning.