Early mornings spent supine,
Waking softly, slowly, with stretches and meditation.
Gentle devotions meet fervent prayer, before
Scrubbing and polishing, locking in a little more
Youth with a potion of ceramides, hyrdogel, vitamin C,
Retinaldehyde, something called squalane, and SPF.
(Though I still suspect most of those to be as
Make-believe as their strange names sound.)
The quiet in my mind and in the house are
A welcome relief from the chaos and inner turmoil
That was the day before, but I must confess that
My eyes and wastebasket still bulge from respective tears & tissues.
With a quiet cup of sunshine, I make lists.
Of gratitude, of hopes and dreams, of plans
Paired with the mundane and endless to-do
That can wait one more day, perhaps one more year.
As I take in all that it took to reach this penultimate moment.
Every scar, tear, hug, and glimmer is
Part of a truth that is sometimes clear and
At other times, clouded yet silver-streaked:
Dark times like yesteryear (2023) make the
Hopeful fresh starts like today (2024)
That much brighter. ❤️🩹 ✨☀️
Bad Blackadémique 