When It Happens

When it happens:

it’s when it happens by itself, let’s call it grace, and most often it’s in those early hours before the hint of dawn, sky still holding to the edge of dark, yet the world seems to know that light is soon. There’s a sense of shifting patterns, time is different at this hour, things seem to linger for a last embrace of night before morning light parts through. Secrets are shared at this time, grace is given.

when it happens.

for me, this is the hour of a quiet mind, and not just for myself alone but for the world too it seems. There’s a collective hush, as if we’re afraid to startle ourselves and move to soon from this place between realms. Night still holds a certain claim to those awake, the mind is slower, thoughts not yet prevalent in their normal rush. Nothing is hurried. And this is when it sometimes happens, grace appears, and everything seems to settle to a point of letting go, appearance and surrender happening at once and seen now to be the very same, nothing lasting beyond the span of a single breath, and yet nothing is ever lost as well. Whatever’s found within this moment truly belongs, completely as it is, exact, and is immediately let go to become a new appearance, something other, but somehow still the same, remaining true as essence, the energy of some singular expression. Breathing in…I am…and with this comes an identity of self and history, a future full of hope and expectations. Breathing out and suddenly I’m gone, surrendered to the moment, only presence now, aware, accepting.