The Morning After

2005-07-22

If there was ever a question
as to why I may wish to stay
a while longer
on this mysterious planet,
the answer came to me
at dawn that morning
when the birds, singing
so loud and so persistently,
woke me to your head
on my pillow
and to your eyes,
looking at me
with the ancient awe
and the pride
a man must have felt
eons ago,
gazing at the glow
of the left over embers,
the morning after
he made fire
for the very first time.