In the early morning shadows of a curtained room, I hear the dawning of another day.

The rumbling of the waking furnace and the groaning of hot water pipes beneath my feet mixes with the noise of a blue jay outside crying, “Thief! Thief!”

Within the shuttered room of my heart, there is a sense that something precious has been stolen from me in the night while I slept and that I am destined to wander this day wondering what if anything was lost and whether I will find it again.

I can choose to spend my day in such aimless seeking.

Or I can come truly awake, open up the curtains to the gray day, and let the night go.

The thermostat clicks. I feel the rush of hot air through the ducts of the house.

Outside it is quiet. The blue jay has disappeared.


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