At five, I wake with the false dawn
the call of nature at three
an hour of chasing Morpheus
two hours of fitful sleep
haunted by the illusion of wakefulness
the battle is lost to the new day
and I rise before backache sets in
who needs more than six hours sleep anyway
Seen from space
the line between night and day
looks sharp enough
but on the ground
the scattered rays of the coming sun
diffuse through the atmosphere
gradually dissolving the dark
and banishing ancient and childhood fears
Finally the buildings opposite
lose their grey and acquire a yellow tinge
that brightens to ruddy Welsh gold
as the sun peeps over the horizon
and for a moment, filtered by atmosphere
we can behold the true god
whose gravity rules the solar system
sustaining life through the burning up of its body
Children may sleep through
the transition from night to day
but as we age, the need for sleep diminished
the penumbra of consciousness and light attune
and though we may lie next to another
we awaken alone in the liminal space
that exists between false dawn and sunrise
before we rise – another day to face…
© Andrew Wilson, 2024
Over at dVerse Poets Pub, Laura Bloomsbury in Meeting the Bar: Critique and Craft, challenges us to write about Dawn writing in the poetry style of the A L’Arora, a form created by Laura Lamarca:
- 4 stanzas (or more)
- 8-lines per stanza (can split with line break after 6)
- only lines 6 & 8 are to rhyme as x,x,x,x,x,a,x,a; x,x,x,x,x,b,x,b etc
- no syllable count per line
Poetry Subject: Lamarca’s A L’Arora derives from “Aurora” – Italian for “dawn”
Your false dawn is so familiar, Andrew, and the whole A L’Arora speaks to me. I especially love these lines:
‘Seen from space
the line between night and day
looks sharp enough
but on the ground
the scattered rays of the coming sun
diffuse through the atmosphere’
and the blooming of colour in:
‘Finally the buildings opposite
lose their grey and acquire a yellow tinge
that brightens to ruddy Welsh gold’.
Thanks, Kim, and unfortunately i think many of our generation will find the first stanza only too relatable…
so gently told this was like a kind awakening- some very nice descriptions too and metaphor of welsh gold; the sacrificial sun god. Love the philosophical note in the final stanza with its darker echoes – “and though we may lie next to another
we awaken alone” just as every death is a solo journey
Thank you, Laura, and a good prompt is a good starting place…
Lovely! I am getting to the stage of life where the number of dawns I will experience grows much shorter. Some days I weary of them. But I do love to get out to walk early as the sun is just barely above the horizon with the sea glistening beneath its rays. Such a beautiful sight.
I guess you live by the sea – as we did for ten years in Ireland which I do miss now that we are back in England. But we faced West so it was sunsets we saw and not the dawn…
Nice one
And thanks for fropping by to read mine
much♡love
Hello Andrew, your poem is very beautiful and very relatable to me. My elderly parents live with me and I have recently been looking after my aunt who has been very ill. Less sleep is a very real thing with older people. I know my aunt watched every dawn from the bedroom window.
Thanks Robbie, glad you liked it…
Dawn is my favorite part of the day. Love the unfolding colors of dawn specially this part: we can behold the true god
whose gravity rules the solar system
sustaining life through the burning up of its body.
Some people think that having a scientific understanding of things like sunrise means you can’t appreciate the aesthetic or even spiritual value of it but I don’t find it so…
Andrew, a truly lovely poem. You’ve made best use of the form and carried a line of thought through it that shares your experiences and assessments. I’ve been reading Terry Pratchett for a few months now, and he also does a great job of writing about the transitions between day and night.
Thanks Li – esteemed company indeed…
I know this poem well Andrew, evocative for me.
Sorry to hear that Paul – unless you go to bed early, that is…
I think I am in the liminal space between middle age and old age. I have had some days/nights like these. So well-written, Andrew.
Thank you Punam 💜
Just a poetic wonder to read, Andrew, especially these lines:
“we awaken alone in the liminal space
that exists between false dawn and sunrise”
Loved every expressive line, beautifully configured to attune us this “false dawn.”
Thank you Dora – sometimes things just come together…
I especially like these lines: “Finally the buildings opposite
lose their grey and acquire a yellow tinge
that brightens to ruddy Welsh gold”
Yes, Melissa – my favourite too – Welsh gold is amongst the reddest of golds…