Meccano Dawn Rachel Stanworth

Meccano Dawn

‘Wear gratitude like a cloak and it will feed every corner of your life’ – Rumi

When the world cranks awake and sleep’s consolations splinter, when the sun wearily hauls round the rusty hinge holding night close to dawn, and timid beams lubricate day’s protesting crank-shaft, my soul resists the rude and crunching gear change.

Like a swimmer tide-thrown to shingle I submit, pushing a reluctant foot stiffly out from under the duvet, cantilevering it floorwards on a pulley of winces. Then the other. I avoid the barbed–wire twist by hauling on the bedstead, gracelessly winding myselfup, cog by cog to vertical.

The sun mimics my jagged progress from one polished surface to another, by rubbing up the brightness on scrubby tree tops to get itself going.

So much for cloaking gratitude, that shabby thing kicked under a hard chair where it hurts too much to bend and retrieve. The nuts and bolts of my morning concern putting my pants on.

Take a reality check Rumi.

Rachel Stanworth

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