Angel at the End of Sleep

The messenger whispered, Don’t dig too deep.
The cosmos is a scratch-off, not a mine.
Wake early enough and you won’t see dawn
So much as feel it growing around you.

It comes all the way to the surface, waves
Where other waves rasp in transformation.
Whatever’s going on down there, far off,
In the heart, reports as the skin of things.

The near is always here, in the friction
That announces what’s happened can’t be changed.
Want to pursue this further? Remember,
The dawn is here. The messenger withdrew.