Morning Light

Morning light came through the window 

reminding me of the softness

and splendor

of thought.

The light held memories

flooding into the day:

of a six-year-old boy putting on 

blue sneakers 

soon to collect hillside dew;

of a happy mutt

sniffing along woodland trails;

As if early light

holds memories

breathed in over time

stored for safe keeping –

first days of school,

blackberry picking,

first mornings on the job,

young love resting calmly

on the pillow – 

memories to be awakened

as starlit nights fade

into the white gauze of dawn.

How silently the day comes forth

In this morning light

Where the heart can pause for a moment

before declaring any desire

or admitting any despair.

Making no demands,

this morning light lets me gather myself

before counting my losses.

- Charles Kinnaird