By Nicholas Hooper

Awake, I crawl through metaphors of wine and song,
I become aware of someone who is me – who isn’t me
flickering with misty passion in and out of sight.
The role of king is challenged by the son
who would take things to a point so far unrecognised,
and when we’re past the place of no return,
trusting a new idea into our hands.

The thee and me that live in our minds
will always shadow the virtual and the technical.
There is no way to get rid of them
now that we have seen them.
So take a step back and hope, pray for an answer.
Listen for the step in a burst of rain
when light bursts through
and we are forgiven for wanting dryness now
rather than water that gives all earth life.

The flow of the uncertain spans life and death.
We cannot avoid it, but only rest in a sea
that feels as though it may drown us.
Time seems so precious that we won’t give it up
for the unknown future that may be asked of us.
But think, wake up, and know that there is and isn’t
a pattern or meaning that we can fathom in all this.
Just thee and me, I and thou, forever flickering
just out of sight as we wake from the night.



About Dawnings:
“Every morning at around 5am I get up and go down to my studio. After a short meditation I write down whatever is in my head, giving myself fifteen minutes to do so. Then moving over to the piano (or a more portable instrument like my Ukulele when I'm away), I improvise and record a piece of music inspired by whatever words I just wrote. It is a great way of keeping both my writing and my composing going and I call these small creations Dawnings. They are mostly unedited, like sketches, so that they keep that fresh feeling of an early morning discovery.”

— Nick Hooper