The Breath Between
Outside my window daylight gathers again, faint as memory. The day begins where it always does, not in the sky, but in my body remembering how to wake itself. I open my eyes to the same world, yet everything feels newly made. Beyond the window a light mists rises across the fields and for a moment, I sense that neither daylight nor darkness ever ceased. They are the same breath moving through different hours, the universe inhaling and exhaling itself into being.
This is a wonderful meditation on daylight and darkness - how both are continually there together - moving between existence and non-existence, as life perpetually renews itself. Fine poem, Paul.
Thanks to @t-raise us up with Thérèse for this restack!