FOLLOWING A THREAD

Dawn arrives as a hint
As if it knows it is expected
But it seems I confuse its arrival
With my ability to Be

Interesting discovery
At twilight I slow
At night I wait 
Come morning I am again

Is this predestined
Or learned
Do I waste the night 
With waiting

What waits
What slows 
Actions?
Emotions?

I know neither is true
For I write at night
I fear at night
I anticipate the dawn

Leaving the feelings
Slow, Wait
Awake
As just perceptions

Then the awkward question
What is perceived 
Time? Self?
Existence? 

Ah! I appears we have strayed
Leaving Poetry behind
We have pierced the veil 
Philosophy is exposed

Shakespeare’s greatest question
To Be or not to Be!

I feel it is a wise man
That knows
A never ending hunt
This thread appears never ending