East Light

East light:

east light, softly breaking through last remains of darkness, quiet, and even the few sounds present seem to have a feel for this softness, somehow less harsh than what's similarly heard through the day. I love the dawn, and more so, the moments leading to its break of light. This is my favorite time to sit, listening to so much silence, a soft meditation of my own first stirrings of the coming day. 

as if I'm witness to my own arrival.

and yet I wonder of true dawn, those hours before the beginning hint of light and darkness feels the urge of dawn's first shine, ceding just a moment of its hold. When does this occur? This agreement of light to coexist through darkness, gradual in its gain of brighter shade.

At what point is my own true dawn?

it seems, at least right now, that there are no moments of just before something else, only what's presently happening, a moment complete in its own possibilities, without agenda to dawn, nor holding to what's past. With this I see that everything's fluid, flowing not exclusively as time, but to its own mystery of involvement as the whole. Every moment is my true dawn, the east light of possibilities, existing too as a twilight of some closure, an ease of one occurrence to what only seems another. 

it's all happening now.

everything. 

as this east light guides me to my dawn. 

~

Peace, Eric