Surfacing from deep sleep, that moment <br />when the disciplined get up immediately, <br />the self-motivated can’t wait to get on doing their life, <br />the blest open their eyes with praise upon their lips, <br />the tardy look with horror at the bedside clock, <br />or the peremptory alarm floods the body with adrenalin, <br />while the rest of us pull the bedclothes over our head <br />to keep the world out of ourselves, or vice versa, <br />not I.. <br /> <br />half-surfacing to some stony ledge <br />in the ocean of part consciousness <br />I am at one with every depressive, every would-be suicide, <br />every spiritual down-and-out, <br />every being who feels their worthlessness, <br /> <br />as one inspecting carefully the contents <br />of the fullish bag of a vacuum cleaner <br />finding there, naught for my comfort <br /> <br />until, if I’m lucky, some passing concern <br />for another human being <br />takes the place of fervent morning hymn <br />and I may feel I have some place, <br />some part to play in this strange drama <br />that we find ourselves thrust onstage to play, <br />wondering if we learned the lines aright; <br /> <br />and after this chastening roller-coaster <br />of humility, mayhap another chance to seek myself, <br />I, dispassionately, rise.<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/0020-awakening-to-myself/
