there is a time in the early morning,
when the grey first brightens behind the still dark trees and figures,
that moment to me
truly feels like the death of night.
softened by an unseen rain,
the earth slowly remembers itself,
startled and afraid of the new day approaching.
this is what a quiet birth feels like.
it is here in this new day that anything, everything, is possible.
what is love besides endlessly watching the sunrise together,
again
and again?
and again...?
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