Second Wind
Another sunrise.
Another chance
to get it right.
And I will.
Because the fire’s back –
quiet,
controlled,
mine.
Another sunrise.
Another chance
to get it right.
And I will.
Because the fire’s back –
quiet,
controlled,
mine.
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.
Be grateful.
For the breath that fills your lungs,
for the silence that cradles your thoughts,
for the gift of this moment –
unpaid, unpromised,
but yours entirely.
This love of ours is the weight of every lifetime
the children we bore, the joys we shared,
the dreams that filled our hearts.
I have loved you through it all,
and as I sit here now,
I feel the same love burning inside me,
as if no time has passed at all.
Hair rose at the back of my neck as I wrote,
as if time itself
ran its fingers along my spine,
reminding me of what I could not outrun.
The ticking, louder now,
echoed in the quiet,
each beat a hammer,
each second a pulse I couldn’t ignore.