Dawnings
Peculiar
By Nicholas Hooper
Nothing in particular happens
There is an emptiness, a void about this time
like the wasted, raced horse that pants
and thinks of nothing in its stall
and the world wakes up leaving me behind
Sociability is fine at one level and lost at another
so finding the heart of that person
is hard as though drilling through reinforced concrete
A flower may show and bring to mind
another time when spring broke through
and winter died in a shroud of primroses
And altogether the cheerful blackbird
is bothersome in its song
reminding me that time has gone and the day must start
but loneliness can convert to aloneness
and a firmer feeling of presence
finds footing at last
in a damaged heart
—————
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