Awake, Awake, Awake

by Michael Gebelein

It’s always been
hard for me to
identify with
things that are unknown.
To feel the embrace
from a different plane
of existence or consciousness
seems incorrect.
I’ve made a show
of tolerance and acceptance
so hopefully actions
really do tell more
to the world than words.
Leaning in closer
to see the world
with eyes like
a fortune teller on Miami Beach,
or a Baptist preacher in a small Southern town,
a gas station attendant in Cleveland.
Maybe they’ve got it figured out,
but for now I’ll just
lay in this bed with this piece of paper
on a Monday morning with the snow coming in from outside
and a ring of cigarette smoke over the end table.
Letting the world have a short glimpse
before throwing the curtains wide.

Michael Gebelein is a writer living in Asheville, North Carolina.