The Privilege of Sunrise

October 22

THE PRIVILEGE OF SUN RISE

I wake, happily, at 5:30.  I will again see the show beyond compare.  In stark contrast to the mornings I filled with moping or sober angst, shades of the same dark color, I shuck my covers, bathing and dressing with purpose, and propel myself forward.  I hate to miss the first act.  Dawn, the tint of clouds dusky and sweet.  I’m on my route; I start my open-eyed prayer.  For all those living at the hands of an addict, Be with them.  Please.  For the addicts, help us all to fail fast.

I scan the horizon, checking all the views.  I reflect on the striking change, earthbound green and gold, sky held pink, orange and blue.  The silhouettes of trees exquisitely lit from behind, the sweet moon sharing the sunrise with me, add to the pleasure of my drive.  I start my gratitude list.  Beginning with my sobriety...each moment, the people, the life, the thinking, the feeling, and my ability to share it all with you.

Don’t become overly fond of nothingness for it may consume you.

*

Jacks

Born crazy, is that better than becoming deranged?

Do birth affects excuse my unrepentant glee?

Does irrepressible sardonic wit

explain the order of restless exposition?

Can you count on Cicadic enthusiasm to carry me,

or flightless fancy to keep me down?

I am beyond redemption, beyond reception, beyond device.

I arrived riddled with chaotic cracks,

but I am more than just a glaze

and deep down I’m more than sound,

So walk with my wild side

and your thoughts I’ll rearrange.

You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/Sober-On-The-Way-Sane/dp/1440417342/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576888&sr=8-1&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/More-Lines-From-My-Life/dp/1448677203/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388576956&sr=8-1&keywords=More+Lines+From+My+Life

Jacks

October 23

Jacks

Born crazy, is that better than becoming deranged?  Do birth affects excuse my unrepentant glee?  Does irrepressible sardonic wit explain the order of restless exposition?  Can you count on Cicadic enthusiasm to carry me, or flightless fancy to keep me down?  I am beyond redemption, beyond reception, beyond device.  I arrived riddled with chaotic cracks, but I am more than just a glaze and deep down I’m more than sound, so walk with my wild side and your thoughts I’ll rearrange.

When you can’t fill the void, wallpaper

*

BEFORE THE END OF THE ROAD

Before the end of the road tiny stone lay on the side
Freshly painted lines glimmer in this twilight trance.
Walking the macadam, the crunch underfoot
Changes my perspective.

No steering wheel or accelerator
This is ankle express all the way.
Walking the road , step by step, on my own
I am part of the soft and growing world.
Progressing on a plan of separate integrity

Moist, lush wonder, is missed
By the motor speedway I let rule my life
Honeyed sweetness covers the vegetation
Swaying in the undulating air born pulse.

I am tempted to lie down and have a roll
But my role tonight is to reach the end of the road.
When my goal is achieved I may choose
A woodland life or an urban endeavor.

Seeing the end of this path is job enough for now.
Decisions anticipated prior to arrival
Are foolish diversions.
I need to stay, not stray with the dancers in the wind.

You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

http://www.amazon.com/More-Sober-The-Way-Sane/dp/144141231X/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1374072329&sr=8-3&keywords=sober+on+the+way+to+sane

http://www.amazon.com/Lines-My-Life-Sherrie-Theriault/dp/1448652820/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1374072576&sr=1-1&keywords=Lines+from+my+life%2C+Sherrie+theriault

The Privilege of Sun Rise

October 22

THE PRIVILEGE OF SUN RISE

I wake, happily, at 5:30.  I will again see the show beyond compare.  In stark contrast to the mornings I filled with moping or sober angst, shades of the same dark color, I shuck my covers, bathing and dressing with purpose, and propel myself forward.  I hate to miss the first act.  Dawn, the tint of clouds dusky and sweet.  I’m on my route; I start my open-eyed prayer.  For all those living at the hands of an addict, Be with them.  Please.  For the addicts, help us all to fail fast.

I scan the horizon, checking all the views.  I reflect on the striking change, earthbound green and gold, sky held pink, orange and blue.  The silhouettes of trees exquisitely lit from behind, the sweet moon sharing the sunrise with me, add to the pleasure of my drive.  I start my gratitude list.  Beginning with my sobriety...each moment, the people, the life, the thinking, the feeling, and my ability to share it all with you.

Don’t become overly fond of nothingness for it may consume you.

*

Jacks

Born crazy, is that better than becoming deranged?

Do birth affects excuse my unrepentant glee?

Does irrepressible sardonic wit

explain the order of restless exposition?

Can you count on Cicadic enthusiasm to carry me,

or flightless fancy to keep me down?

I am beyond redemption, beyond reception, beyond device.

I arrived riddled with chaotic cracks,

but I am more than just a glaze

and deep down I’m more than sound,

So walk with my wild side

and your thoughts I’ll rearrange.

Jacks

October 23

Jacks

Born crazy, is that better than becoming deranged? Do birth affects excuse my unrepentant glee? Does irrepressible sardonic wit explain the order of restless exposition? Can you count on Cicadic enthusiasm to carry me, or flightless fancy to keep me down? I am beyond redemption, beyond reception, beyond device. I arrived riddled with chaotic cracks, but I am more than just a glaze and deep down I’m more than sound, so walk with my wild side and your thoughts I’ll rearrange.

When you can’t fill the void, wallpaper

*

BEFORE THE END OF THE ROAD

Before the end of the road tiny stone lay on the side
Freshly painted lines glimmer in this twilight trance.
Walking the macadam, the crunch underfoot
Changes my perspective.

No steering wheel or accelerator
This is ankle express all the way.
Walking the road , step by step, on my own
I am part of the soft and growing world.
Progressing on a plan of separate integrity

Moist, lush wonder, is missed
By the motor speedway I let rule my life
Honeyed sweetness covers the vegetation
Swaying in the undulating air born pulse.

I am tempted to lie down and have a roll
But my role tonight is to reach the end of the road.
When my goal is achieved I may choose
A woodland life or an urban endeavor.

Seeing the end of this path is job enough for now.
Decisions anticipated prior to arrival
Are foolish diversions.
I need to stay, not stray with the dancers in the wind.