Upon Awakening.

The free fall of awakening:
Vision mocking white noise, until
my eyes open to carpet and bread crumbs.
I am silent on the ground,
as i remember the sound, and feeling,
of air running
past my ears and through my hair.
Hands catch the warm currents,
and pass back into cold.
My eyes watered by the sharp sting
of the wind in my face,
only to be conscious again
and know only of sad tears.
What once was beautiful,
is now lost.
Dreams fade every day,
leaving scars in familiar landmarks.
I still feel the undertow,
and the ocean is still apart of me;
as i have yet to merge
and let it take hold.