I Am The Beating Heart

I rise from my dark slumber, waking to dark stillness.  I softly make my way through the door ways and hallways.  To the door leading out.

I pull it open.

Step out in to the coolness.

Step softer yet to not disturb the peace of a morning not woken.

Sit upon the still slumbering rocking chair.

Put my feet upon the ends of the runners.   Curling my feet down over the upturn curl of it’s up.

I settle.

To be awake.

When all around me a world sleeps.

And I-

I am the beat of the heart alive.