The Moment the Light Arrives
When nothing moves, and everything changes
A leaf stills.
The hush arrives in pieces
a sigh caught in the wrist of wind
a pause where movement almost was
No music, only the shape of waiting
Sunlight lowers itself
onto the surface of water
without effort
with the calm of recognition
There is no decision
only the way the light
rests against the world
a shoulder set beside
the pale trunk of a poplar
a gold cord looped through the spine
of a dragonfly held mid-hover beside the reed
Nothing breaks
Even the ripples hesitate
forgetting their script
The moment holds its breath
held still by reverence
Beneath this stillness
a seed of knowing
splits without sound
You don’t see it open
but you feel the shift
in the way your palm warms
without moving
in the way your name
feels lighter
than it did this morning
And maybe it is summer
but the heat never pushes through.
Time no longer walks
It stands beside you
hand open
No one asks you to speak
No one asks you to change
Only to see
what the light sees
that there has always been
a beginning here
quiet as the gleam
on a blade of grass
as wind waits beyond the edge of the pond.
About the Creator
Tim Carmichael
Let your becoming be louder than your fear, and your smallest steps become the road you once thought impossible to walk. An Appalachian poet and cookbook author my book Beautiful and Brutal Things is on Amazon, Link 👇
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.