The Morning On Your Tongue

There are times when it all seems to be held within the stillness of a moment. Times when it seems the whole world can be taken into one hand and held. Here we are at the edge of the rest of our lives, waiting for some sort of sign, some sort of direction, we wait, here.

It can be a moment; it can be less than the tick of a slow clock. It could take forever for your hand to move, for your fingers to close around the moment you hold in your hand. We are here; we wait, here.

Now, the sky opens up into the morning, leaving the darkness of the night behind on your pillow. You step out barefoot onto dew-damp grass to taste the morning on your tongue. It tastes fresh and new, as if a whole life could grow up and out from this one single new morning.

Here is the day and here we are together again. We stand side by side as always, looking at the world through the same eyes and from the same angle. We have always been here, and this moment will last forever.

The day will begin when you are ready.