dawn - holding

Morning breaks 

already stained with

the feeling of failure.

The being-under-it 

holding badly

and the chaos.

Already the lists, 

already the loose ends whipping wild. 

The impossibility of it.

But listening close, is this what

stillness of air and 

soft rumble of awakening 

speaks?

Listening to the soft ripple.

A freshness, 

newness, completeness.

A sense of being held. Enough,

Released.

 

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