Morning Musings 2

 

Morning Musings 2

The sky was highlighted in gold brown accompanied by heads of lamplights. This was the scene that accompanied my wakefulness through the glass doors leading to my balcony. If I turned on the light, the sky disappeared, smeared in black. 

It's strange how turning on the light changes your perception, possibly blacking our something you would normally see, or blinding you with the "light of reason" so you fail to see what's under it. 

While I was pondering this, Morning creeped through the night in a gray gown and tiptoed over to me. It was too early to say hello, so I turned my back on her and crossed the dark hall to the bathroom.

When I finally reached my room, Morning was already slipping through the cracks even though the blinds tried to blind her out. But her fingers showed around the door frame and through a thin line in the window shade which couldn't totally shade her.

I was awake and felt that she was, too–or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe she had awoken first and was peeking in on me, becoming more and more intense until I had to take notice.

Just because Morning wakes up misty does not take away from her beauty. Morning calls for preparation: the eyes washing out the dark of night, the lips needing moisture and kind words, the breath heaving out troubled thoughts she went to bed with...then there is the sucking in of freshness from the window...

Morning's a lot like you and me, in reality. That's not so strange if you think we are part of her, that we walk with her or into her every day.

Photo: Jonas Jaeken

Text: Kristen Mastromarchi