Sitting on the
middle cushion
of my couch,
I see the sunlight
moving through
the neighbor’s
large oak.
My cat
looks in the same
direction.
Is she
watching the
sunrise too?
The quiet
of dawn
is crisp and
refreshing.
A sort of
resurrection
for the new day-
an offering
of renewal
from the goddess
of time.
Or maybe
it is reincarnation.
A gracious
gift from life
to grow in
wisdom
rather than bake
in our own
regret.
The accountability
is mine.
But how will I begin
again?
Should I leave
my unwanted
baggage
at the airport
terminal
and walk empty
handed onto
the plane?
The light
has already
shifted.
It always does.
But the
back door remains
open.
Will I walk
through?
Will you?
-Me
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