Awake

I wake up in an aviary 
shrouded in perfect light
splintered into a rainbow as if 
by a crystalline presence summoned
through the bird's morning song
God's alarm clock is tender and I'm 
welcomed with warmth
to the day despite the 45 degrees 
sending chills down my sleepy 
spine for the first time in a long time I 
want to be 
awake
may my heart be arrested by
the reality of this light above 
the clouds when it's gloomy 
when it rains
may my mind become a traveling aviary 
fortified by singing and wings that cause me to 
preside over the inner critic I speak of 
the Spirit abiding in my soul I speak of being 
awake.