Member-only story
East Light
East light:
east light, softly breaking through last remains of darkness, quiet, and even the few sounds present seem to have a feel for this softness, somehow less harsh than what’s similarly heard through the day. I love the dawn, and more so, the moments leading to its break of light. This is my favorite time to sit, listening to so much silence, a soft meditation of my own first stirrings to the coming day.
as if I’m witness to my own arrival.
and yet I wonder of true dawn, those hours just before the hint of light, and as darkness feels the urge of dawn’s first shine, ceding a small measure of its hold. When does this occur? This agreement of light to coexist through darkness, gradual in its gain of brightness.
At what point is my own true dawn?
it seems to me, at least right now, that there are no moments of just before something else occurs, only what’s presently happening, an instant complete in its own possibilities, without agenda to dawn, nor holding to an evening’s past. With this, I see that everything’s fluid, flowing not exclusively as time, but to its own mystery of involvement as the whole. Every moment is my true dawn, the east light of possibilities, existing too as a twilight of some closure, an ease of one occurrence to what only seems another.
it’s all happening now.
everything.
as this east light guides me to my dawn.
~
Peace, Eric