Arise.
When the air is fresh,
Still,
Silent,
Brimming with the promise of a new day. Swelled with electrical energy: I awake, and
Listen
To the pad-pad of my slippers, such a faint noise, a tremor in a VAST pool, as I
Slip down the stairs, skkiiddd into the bathroom, and carefully - carefully -
Remove the screen,
Slidde out, onto the roof -
into the brand new day.
Here, I can observe every rustle of every leaf in the trees that surround my house; listen to the music of the birds, their rousing song, their battle cry. Watch the wind snake through every dewdropped blade of grass, and see the sky (the sky! streaked pink and gold and blazing flame and delicate cyan) reflected in every still puddle.
The sky breathes.
And then there is me. Humble, in my robe and slippers, my mountain of velvet curls. Taking the time to pay homage to this BRIGHT world, the world as it should be, before the footprint of smoke and noise and pain smashes it flat.
In this time, as I curl on my rooftop,
p i t t e d like the moon,
and watch the sun,
it seems that, for just this perfect, glowing, blazing moment-
It is possible to change.