Poem: Onwards by John Predmore, S.J.

Dawn,
protrudes her head into the darkness
summoning all to rise.
The day begins,
and leads nowhere.
I sit and note
elsewhere I could be doing.
My time would be filled.
I would have purpose.
I swig a drop of coffee,
and yet another,
my breath melts under the sun.
I watch the birds and cows,
and empty my cup,
with no cause to arise.
I sit.
I feel.
Onwards I stay,
And breathe until midday.