As the new day blooms behind curtains,
crawling on weightless whispers
and swan-songs of sleep,
I open my eyes to say good morning
to the weight of my body sinking into the mattress.
I notice the textured patterns on the ceiling
spiraling around tiny points that probably don’t even realize
that they are included in the beauty built around them.
Once I lost the peace that came with
the still, quiet mornings. I forgot
to look out the window at the world turning
from dark, to gray, to pastel, to full color, and
the sun illuminating spider webs as intricate as
tendrils of dreams slipping back into my pillow.
I hid from the textured ceiling and
clung to kaleidoscopic visions that
could never stay bright when faced with the sunrise.
But today, I’m lying on my back
with my arms behind my head, welcoming the sunlight and
the patterns gracing the ceiling while my thoughts wander;
light. I think about
other tiny lives who spiral around each other and
probably don’t even realize that
they are a part of the beauty built around them. Someday,
they will wake up
and see their place in the beauty
of this very morning.