Morning Mind Poem by Leah Ayliffe

Morning Mind

Rating: 4.5


I find myself not thinking
The hours and days are passing by
Without much sequence of time
Like an empty mind.
I walk the highway road each morning
Just after the sun warms the sky
And the train leaves the platform
While I watch it go behind.
The motion of cars race past my body
The wind playing with my hair
Where on the right the land is calm
The land is settled like a serene dream
An ocean of flat fields and trees sporadically placed.
Yesterday the air was light, the clouds were a pink and yellow heaven.
I felt settled as a voice told me he’d be my eternal light.
Today the winter air left the world silver and white
And I felt divinely in tune with all my surroundings
As another voice sings “Twisted diamond heart, I'm the weekend warrior”.
A new routine of wandering the streets with a cigarette in hand
Smiling like somebody else.
Praying for a cup of hot coffee before I reach the destination at hand.
Always worried about what’s missing in time and space
In the past and future and whatever is now.
The days have become something irrelevant,
I think I should miss caring about them.
Rather, my thoughts have been directed to a sideways vision of time
A little piece of the world I have created inside.
I don’t know where I’m going to,
I somehow wish it was towards someone like you.
Someone.
Waiting on the beach without questions of what I’ve been doing.
Where I’ve been.
I’ve been everywhere and everyone,
Still, I ended up back here..
Ended up back as her.
I thought she was dead.
I had dreamed I killed her in the most melancholy style long ago.
Who loved her back into immortality only to fade into white noise?

The train comes every day
At the same hour, same minute.
There is a circular sense of movement in breaths that go along linearly.
I stand there waiting.
It moves fast in one direction.
I stand waiting to step on board.
Like as a girl playing double dutch with skipping ropes
Waiting for the right moment to jump inside
To find the right beat to carry on until my breath subsides.
Someday soon I’ll remember that I must not get on.
I must not burn out breathless like the ones who forgot to do what they want.

Thursday, November 26, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: dreams,morning,walking,winter
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Daniel Brick 27 November 2015

There are two problems with commenting on poems at POEMHUNTER: These tiny boxes are confining, you can't spread OUT your thoughts; and you can't see the whole poem while writing a comment. I have to go back to the poem and check lines for accuracy in my references and quotations.And you frequently circle back to the beginning in your closing, as you do in this poem. I think that circling back is a wonderful touch for closure and wholeness. It's the Ouroboros image. I'll write my comment through email because I like this poem

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