early morning meditations

before the dawn should break and start the day anew, under moon and twinkling star still bright, hearken to your ghost, ‘return to me.’  and your shell, rising from repose, quietly subdues the early morning shock.  

seemingly unconscious, you draw forth the water that cleans your face, clad your body in a shirt and short’s embrace.  reach for feet below and sky above, mild exertions to warm the blood.  gird your feet in a second skin, in shoes secured by knots perfected. 

now out of the house and onto the road, as though a mummy exhumed from its resting place.  set foot to ground and begin the journey.  take with you nothing but the notion of occam’s razor, to expel the inessential.  breath in and out, controlled and even.  head and shoulders as still as possible.  back straightened and chest expanded in imitation of a military man.  each stride as narrow as can naturally be made.  each step a leap to a destination. 

my eyes gaze upon the clouds above, the humble offerings like dull mirrors palely reflecting a raging fire below.  the road before me, neither friend nor foe, but rather, a question posed. 

what are you made of?

hero or villian, i shall reveal the answer in each step.