Renewal is at hand;
despite those few occasions,
when my awareness slowly unfolds,
as if by restoration from Above.
My scattered self, arranged
into something that resembles yesterday’s me.
not until my second cup of tea,
am I able to recognize
any continuity of familiarity;
and, so, I wonder, is the rest of my soul still dreaming?
Or, perhaps, fragments of my psyche
have not yet been retrieved,
from Shomayim (Heaven),
where they are still being cleansed.