this morning is the morning

This morning is the morning
that comes while I'm asleep
dreaming my inexcusable dreams.

This morning is the morning
of the day when I will finally
not let my habits
orchestrate and direct.

This morning is the morning
of my twenty fifth year (some days in)
and the steel train tracks
of my mind are being lifted
and pointed north.

This morning is the morning
when the human mind
witnesses how it spends time--
cyclical pattern, magnetic suggestion,
gain and rewards sufferings.

How many ignore the insanity
and try to make sense of the constant
and keep going? Perhaps this is how
we separate and redeem ourselves.
Maybe it is choice and suffering
that when they end, the mouth to the river
will be found and followed inland, to find
the steel tracks and move them a little.