Awakening
So this is awakening –
a rush of breath as the world unfolds,
each sense sharp, alive,
pulling in the colors and shapes,
the sound of leaves stirring,
and the pulse of life beneath my skin.
The air, thick with newness,
wraps around me like a quiet song,
its scent sweet, wild,
filling my lungs with the weight of rain,
of earth after the storm,
each inhalation a reminder
of things I’d forgotten to feel.
I hear the morning rise,
the hum of a world turning,
every beat of it against my chest,
each note clear and alive,
echoing through my bones,
calling me to remember
what it is to be whole.
My eyes, open to light,
to the glisten of dew on blades of grass,
to the dance of shadows across the ground,
as if the earth itself breathes,
stretching, stirring,
and I am part of its waking,
alive in every quiet miracle,
every whisper of the world.
