‘Not Every Morning’ and Other Poetry by Anne Janai

Not Every Morning

Not every morning is as this one, calm
excitement for a future brought by change,
so many years’ hard work to wrought from strange
traditions of my past into this balm.

The child me dreamt of serene home, torment
behind for those who won’t escape, a flight
into a better place of tranquil right,
now come because travail and strong intent.

Today I walk beyond a new threshold
first entry to a home that prompts vast hope
within my mind, a vision’s wide grand scope
cementing me into a peaceful fold.

This morning’s both beginning and the end,
I cast the past long gone and now transcend.

Fade to Gray

Today we spoke of the expansiveness
of beach sands next to morning sunrise sky.
The water’s glassy deep blue edge scalds high
to orange steaks that shoot vivid fluoresce.
Between bare toes you feel sand’s fine caress,
a smooth wet swatch of life in full supply,
and know that all tomorrows will defy
your past aptness to lose self in distress.

The smallness of the self aside the long
stretch of the sea, brings peace that overwhelms
a lack of clarity. Your day to day,
small tasks of life, no longer will be strong,
will sift into the mists above with helms
now gone from consciousness, and fade to gray.

Anne Janai is a Frost Farm Hyla Brook poet and a member of The Poetry Society of New Hampshire. Her poems have appeared in The Poets’ Touchstone and Snapdragon: A Journal of Art & Healing. She is a professional coach and Montessori teacher with an education in human development and clinical psychology.