I wake in the night saying thank you.
In the morning the words still on my lips
Gladness like a geyser bubbling up inside.
I resist the urge to name the source
and sit before the morning sun and savor.
I wake in the night saying help me.
In the morning the words still on my lips.
Sadness pulling me back into my cave of covers
while the sun, relentless in her dailiness,
proceeds without permission.
It dawns on me
My life, my glorious goddamn life.