Poem 0171: still

My feet drop from the bed onto the floor.
Even the wooden planks are chilled in the darkness
Of the morning.
My longing heart calls out for light,
So I close my eyes to remember that the darkness
Starts from inside.

Tender with barely awakeness,
I hover for a moment at the top of stairs.
Something awesome is arriving.
This day (like every day) is inviting me
Into its newness.

~ by Stan Stewart
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