Photo by Ian Talmacs on Unsplash
The morning flows through the blinds.
Fingers of light touching my skin.
I watch them move across the floor.
Drawing shapes only I can see.
The world begins outside my walls.
But here, I settle into quiet.
Each light is a gentle hope.
Each shadow is a soft sign of calm.
No one sees this quiet morning,
No one feels the peace it brings.
And I keep it close inside me,
A tiny sun held in my chest.
About the Creator
Emily
Poem lover, word collector, and believer in the quiet magic of language. I write to remember, to heal, and to find beauty in the spaces between silence and sound. Every poem is a heartbeat — a small proof that feelings can become art.
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