Wednesdays are for poets

I am lost
in a maze of dreams
under the covers
of a midnight moon.

My breath died
on the down pillow
as I sank beneath
the weary sky.

One day I may rise
and touch the feathered clouds.

One day I may fly
amid the burning stars.

Cyn Bagley 2008

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Repost March 2, 2014: Sunrise Sonnet

As the body wakes
the sun builds above the hills
tight muscles ache
and meadowlarks trill

The quiet night sounds break
to a hymn of life
as the orange-gold rays overtake
the stings of night-strife

One breath crests
unfurls the leaves of pipal-
let the eye-of-god rest
upon his people

My body bows in first position,
an active sunrise meditation.

Published in Sonnet Playground in 2011.

Sunrise Sonnet

As the body wakes
the sun builds above the hills
tight muscles ache
and meadowlarks trill

The quiet night sounds break
to a hymn of life
as the orange-gold rays overtake
the stings of night-strife

One breath crests
unfurls the leaves of pipal-
let the eye-of-god rest
upon his people

My body bows in first position,
an active sunrise meditation.

Published in Sonnet Playground in 2011.