Good Morning

Morning. I like it because it coincides with daylight. The end of darkness…as in “now I can sleep.” (But usually have to get up. Go to work.) Only sometimes do I get the treasure of a daylight nap. Pure, safe, subconscious travel to a well lit la-la land.

In the past, I treasured evening’s gentle triumph. I’d surrender myself to the chorus of tree frogs and crickets. Now, I find myself unsettled and incapable of trusting what I can no longer see.

Over many years and just enough heartbreak, I developed an unhealthy blame against darkness. An unfair association with death.

Those formerly beautiful sounds, smells, and dreams that created night’s magic now elude me.  I have lived, scarred, and buried my resilience.

Maybe it’s just a control issue, or a reflection of how fast time seems to pass now.

But at some unspecific point, I stopped being able to say, “This will be OK.”

“We will get through this.”

“There’s always tomorrow.”

Instead…I began to know fear.

I consumed despair.

I sided with loss.

I stopped looking for the moon and I ignored the stars.

But they have not stopped looking for me.

Their celestial illumination remains.

They trust that I will find them again. That I will understand the darkness is necessary and the night must not be blamed for life’s realities.

That once again, I will believe in the magic of both day and night. And I will be more than just my happiness, my sadness, my safeties, and my fears.

I will say good morning and good night without speaking a word.

Because I will remember that tonight is my tomorrow, my yesterday, and my beginning.




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