The world is quiet. I quieter still.
The dawn has come and sits ever thinking.
The silence that permeates the morning air is the space to mend.
Remembrance of dreams that come to wake. Of answers and coffee and planning dates.
To hear the clock tick as I breathe in the sounds of birds just beginning to get around.
My heart stays empty in these morning moments. I do not know what to say.
Muddled emotions from yesterday and dreams have trouble unwinding to start the day.
Does anyone read my words, I wonder? Is anyone there beyond the faceless screen?
Who is sitting quiet, in the dawn moments of time, sipping earthen coffee, and reading words of mine?
In those silent minutes of I writing and you reading we are connected through space and rhyme.