gil scott heron
morning thoughts
The sweet smell of my lady's love her body blending with my own. The time when the world is dark and quiet and we're alone: near the precipice that separates noise from peace, the hint of an every evolving magic; a precious place combines and still confirms the space the oneness and togetherness. And still a softer morning in March a gift for me from God with a darling face and papa's eyes and Grandma's grace. How there the light of immortality shines as wondrous fragile dreams taste light and the slightest breeze for the first time. And morning thoughts turn to smiles to love to sunshine to "Good morning' morning thoughts are of the storm lightning flashing through the dawning sky of Grandma's hand and younger day's of life's discovery from behind the veil of her guidance of the music that forums our historical biography descriptive of precious heritage of the aches and frustrations of city life blues the threat of violence that provides the atmosphere and observations from the balcony of a "B Movie" As (though) "all the word's a stage" morning thoughts begin as Midnight black gives way to morning cracks of sunshine morning as a new day beginning with all its bright interpretive promise shine down then sunshine on Zimbabwe on El Salvador on Namibia on Poland wherever a man would dare stand up for a change we were born at Midnights in the darkest time, but surely the first minute of a new day gives