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.
To be awake.
When all around me a world sleeps.
I am the beat of the heart alive.