Mother Nature draws a deep breath
Just before the sun peaks over the horizon
The cold air rushes in
Chasing the warmth away
And for those minutes, as she takes her breath
The quality of sound changes
The birds are silent
And then
A shaft of light
Strikes
If I close my sun warmed lids and breathe
The sunlight filters into my cranium
Filling my skull like the apse of a church is filled by the holy spirit of love
At a christening
The native Americans call this eating the sun
And so I breathe – eating light allowing it to smoulder throughout my being
Imagine it setting fire to the blood
Rushing throughout
Is this why the birds wait to sing?
For the light
It enters them
And it enters me
And then we all sing together
Mine is more of a hum
I’m not much of a singer
But the Magpie fills her chest and warbles with a clarity that should shatter glass
The Butcher Bird joins in
And I’m walking, listening, smiling, as the feathered folk hurl their anthem at the sky
A little hummmmm of a half remembered hymn upon my breath
For yes
Morning has indeed
Broken
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