The Morning
A pale, porcelain light.
The world is not yet awake,and I have its quiet all to myself.
The air is cool and still against my skin.
I watch the slow drift of my own breath in the morning air.
There is no need to be anything more than just this—a witness.
The day will unfold in its own time.
For now,there is only this gentle, unhurried silence.
S