Morning pressed in with an undercurrent
of calmness, like the repose of a folded
napkin next to an empty plate.
Windows encourage light. The room undergoes
change. Colors appear, revealing life
beyond evening grays and the dark of night.
Dreams of sadness become absorbed into
the arms of daylight. The crossroads of
sleep to standing is an orchestra of alive.
Time succeeds. The engine within us
claims the day. One step and then the next.
There are many untold stories.