My nightlight shines from behind my empty coffee pot
Illuminating my goddess, my goddess of the morning
Light shines from behind my empty coffee pot
Illuminating truth and clarity, need and desperation
I come out of the darkness drawn to its beckoning glow
I come out of my darkness, see it waiting for morning’s light
I come out of the darkness, and I come into my home.

*****

My nightlight shines from behind my empty coffee pot
Illuminating its’ waiting desire to be filled, and used  . . .
Its steadfast devotion tempers my anxiety, gives me peace
In this morning life of cutting sunlight and obligation
It is my soft place to lay my head while standing, it is
My womb. My desire. My comfort. My need. My love.
My circle of light in the surrounding darkness of 5 a.m.

*****

She resurrects me every morning . . . sacrifices Her commitment
Becomes my salvation and my soul’s worth both
I worship at Her cathedral of glass and heating elements
Of grounds and water, of the comforting drip of Her Nectar
Complete in Her intoxicating scent of morning’s waking hours
She sustains me. Gives me life. Breathes life to me.
She is my Lady . . . of the Morning. My Lady of Life.

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