In Love With This Precipice

4 a.m. as a stance of quiet.

Breezes move through oak and maple leaves making a sound a little like a light rain.

Flowers releasing their scent at night are a benevolence I cannot expand large enough to enfold. This might be my favorite hint of summer aside from the arrival of sunlight after winter's leaden confinement. These moments – the pause before first bird notes – the last full inhale before dawn – bless my willingness to die in those moments.

First glimmers of delicate light begin to form a lacy stencil through the trees. I believe I am in love with this precipice – this cliff jutting out over the oceanic divine which can only say, “fall.”

Coffee, writing in the dark, and the dewy coolness of summer's morning kiss soon to disappear with the dawn.

Who joins me at this hour points towards One.

A day at the lake brings delight forward from the tendrils of a long ago youth. Water. Life. Play. I forget my body for an era and a weightlessness attends. Two worlds superimpose and yet one wonders if they will ever share this world with the one who will help me destroy it. Mallard ducks, swans and a bald eagle on high.

New songs. Same conductor. I am only an instrument singing a happier tune. Who are you?