What is a day?

It’s a white sheet of printer paper 

Equal canvas for a to-do list or crayons 

It’s jazz 

Dancing like chaos in my ears

But finding perfect order as I lean in 

It’s light 

And I know the light is fleeting

It only graces me with friendship for a few short hours 

A few short hours with permission to be productive 

And they always slip away 

It’s a fading dream

And I swore I filled my mind with visions of a fertile future 

But at present, it’s weeds and soil and my unskilled hands only hold hopelessness and a shovel 

It’s soil 

Beautiful, fertile soil holding a beautiful future

The canvas for a beautiful design 

With the promise of a garden 

If only I plant seeds this time