Jack Ross Knutson

New Morning

Drink honestly from the wild loins of the morning
And leech the dry age from your new forming bones
Your soul lashed to the mast in the hurricane
Squirms and rages against the suzerain
Of job, destiny and belly busting career
When you want to steer with no hands like a wild child
Through the jungle eye of the fertile verdant muse
Sing with the storm voice of night and fellows unknown
With the stars of day glittering in the blinding ray of Narcissus sun
Then plead their ignored signal song of divine light against the dark of day