On authorship - Michel Foucault and Roland Barthes

First light

Main

Poem

The warmth
The sweet, earthy warmth
I stretch my arms at my awakening
To find, to my amazement
A different sort of sensation at my fingertips
Nothing solid like what I was accustomed to
But a lightness, a gently blowing breeze

I probe further, excited by my find
My arms and hands slowly extend upward
My body uncurls, I feel myself
Breaking free of confinement
With each passing moment, each spreading limb
I quicken my exploration, anticipation overiding caution
Any minute now -

I burst forth
Breaking through the final barriers
Feeling the crumbly earth fall from my face, to my feet
Another miracle, like that I have never experienced
Floods and fills me
With life, and an indescribable feeling
An energy unsurpassed

First light....

- the Author

Sitemap

Diary extract