Hymns of Truth and Light

I thought about staying in bed
Writing later
But I knew better

Plodding through
Wet grass
To the studio door

The bare bulb sparks to life
The heater whirs

Griping my silver fountain pen
I scratch my remembrances
Onto the page

My hand trying to keep pace
With the flow of consciousness

My coffee has become cold
The world has begun to brighten
Only my eyes are reflected in the window now

I stare back
Longing for more