I’m up early, it’s the morn
The quiet time when day is born,
That silent space, that peaceful void
That’s only mine, no calls, no noise,
No pushing pulling invitations,
No barrage of expectations,
Just the me inside my head,
With countless thoughts of hope or dread.
Some days are good, some not so much,
But they are mine alone to clutch,
To shape and mold this quiet time
Is here for me and only mine.
Is it the quiet I desire?
Or just the contrast that inspires
Against the frantic flow of days
That, relentless, make their way
In every cranny of every day…
Is it just the step away?
Mayhaps this quiet time, reprieve
Is just a gift I give for free,
A bonus hour, time for me,
not to do but just to be
Alone inside, to listen still
To the calm… what God would will.
Photo © Copyright Hugh Chevallier and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence.
