Morning sun breaks through the window shade’s cracks,
But the rays which manage to sneak in do little to light the small space,
Or even charm it with a tiny sense of warmth,
Anything that would ease the dark chill that’s been encompassing it,
Over the past few days.
You’ve been here before, in this very same place,
Shivering and worried, will it ever warm up?
So you know how these periods happen to emerge,
Like untimely weather events,
Or meteoroids bursting into the atmosphere,
Which can be forecasted if you know what signs to look for,
Such as contrails of migrating birds,
Messages of fallen leaves drawn on the ground,
Or gossip bees exchange while seeping nectar.
But you rarely do.
Instead, you bask in the light and enjoy the warmth,
As it fills every corner of you, baking you in a comfortable joyful daze,
Until you suddenly realize you are alone in the chamber,
Conversing with yourself,
And your words condense in the frozen air in front of you,
Turning your worries into tiny water droplets,
That quickly vanish,
Unlike your thoughts.
Earthly and celestial bodies move to their own rhythm,
Trying to intercept their motion is unwise,
Not to mention futile.
It is better to watch and admire them from a distance,
Until the constellation realigns to a different form.
Better days ahead, you know that from experience.
Love the invisible sun,
Appreciate her great presence.
She will rise again, anew,
Following a meteor shower,
A flock taking a morning flight,
Or by next fall,
But not today.
