Morning

Breath.

Finally.

Beautiful, lovely breath in the quiet morning. The purple hue of darkness hums gently outside of my old window. There is beauty in her still comfort. The whisper of what’s coming. My favorite time of day.

I breathe deep and await the sun. I allow this moment in time to be captured like an old Polaroid, slightly hazy behind my eyes, before it blows away in the breeze leaving us all behind.

Each day a piece of me is carried away, the ticks on the timeline of life chipping steadily away. There is no stopping it.

But here. Breath finds me. My favorite coffee in a now sunlit room, and I hold the mug warm in my tired hands. The dog snores on my shoulder. I breathe and I stare at the light of a Christmas tree that holds so much goodness and love and memory and giggles and wonder.

A reminder of the moments that make up life. That good light she is breaking through the deepest dark.

I want to hold it here always, this place in time when my babies look at me and laugh. When they still dance with me. When they come to me first with their tears. When I am able to take away the pain for a little while. When they look for me in a crowd. When I can hold them tight and know they trust me when I tell them their worth. Before the world’s voice wages war with mine. When they believe they are perfectly lovely just as they are.

Just the 4 of us. The safe home we are to one another.

So, here. In the orange light of a new day, I want to hold on to every bit of it. I want to hold on to this body that still serves me well but ages with each setting sun. I want to hold on to the little feet soon coming my way. I want to hold on to the goodness and dreams and life I can still run wide open into.

How it is all so beautiful and so devastating. How you can never hold one without the other.

So, that is exactly what I do. Even for a moment. I hold it here, and I breathe. And I await the coming day.

~Kalan