It's the sound of
No one being awake but me.
It's the sound of
The dry, well-thumbed pages turning.
It's the sound of
The walls and floor settling themselves
That make my heart still,
My mind come alert,
My soul decompress.
There are days that I wake
Just for the world to sleep.
There are seasons
That I live among others
Desperately yearning solitude.
This is that moment.
And those are the sounds.
This is that moment for me. The sounds of "quiet time" before the world around you rises. Beautiful!
ReplyDeleteCheers,
Mark Butkus
I love that you feel this during the morning. For me, my time comes late at night. It's like I go through the whole day yearning for it to be night again--when everyone passes out.
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