While waking up for this day


Not even a cold wind

could blow away

the befuddled morn

but ritual

not reason

served coffee and chores

and just like that

while fumbling for rhythm

stress sounded

and on the brink

of a mood

quite in discomfort

the self waited





without thought and excuse

and it was


the way the silence

lifted the lie

It brushed and sensed

a world clear

and then

in you walked


did we sense

the mystery

yet to unfold?

~sonja s


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