morning

there is clarity
in the cold darkness
of a November morning;

before the sun hints
at the night sky
the cold bites
at exposed skin
awakening the mind,
driving out the clouds
of sleep
weighted by the trials
of days gone by;

in this dark silence
the crisp air makes
anything feel possible,
all paths are open -
free from doubt -

lean in,
take the first step
towards becoming
who you see
with these unclouded eyes

day breaks on a broken body ravaged by a sleepless night and the wear and tear of Time's passing; mind dense with fog, joints creaking with stiffness, feet hit the floor, the wood's cool grain awakens the mind to the life within, rise, make use of this greatest of gifts

In the early light of the day, the only sounds to interrupt the sweet melodies of the birds were the dull thudding of his feet’s impacting the sidewalk and the occasional rumble of a passing car.

This was his time of day. The time when the world was still shaking off the cobwebs of sleep and he was ready to take on the day. He felt light – as though for once he was ahead of everyone around him. He didn’t care that there was no one around him. It was about the feeling.

He wanted to reach out his arms and force the calm of this moment inside of himself, to swallow it whole and hold it within throughout the day. Inside he knew, this moment – like all moments – would fade to memory.

As he made his turn east – back towards home – the sun began its ascent above the trees; driving out the shadows. He could feel the temperature tick up a few degrees. With it came the pressures of the coming day.

In the light, he saw more of himself. He didn’t like what he saw. The lines of the years, of the disappointments and failings, seemed to him to be laid bare in the light. They were why he haunted the edges of the days – its darknesses and gloamings – he felt safer there away from the glare of the day. No one could see him. In those moments, he felt free.

His pace slowed the closer he came to his house. He knew the weight of the day awaited inside. He wanted to delay it as long as possible. He wanted to hang on to this freedom – to this lightness.

He knew the sun would continue to rise, no matter his pace. After a pause, he trudged on.

Tag: morning

Unclouded Eyes

The Lightness of the Morning