When Life Was Still

foto: johnscutter.com

It was early in the morning, well before anyone else was awake and living out of dreams and rested bliss, when she sat at the kitchen table by candlelight, a warm cup of tea cradled in her hands, pondering nothing in particular but that she sat alone, and being thankful for the moment of quiet and sounds of snores coming from above. That was enough. It was her favorite time of day, when life was still, and the world was without its sometimes sharp edges. And the many challenges life brought her in the daylight seemed not to matter nearly as much as they would seem to in the coming hours. For now this time was hers, and for that she held eternal gratitude that would carry her until the following morning, immune from all the noise around her that seemed to always rub against the grace she knew. One day, she thought, I will live always in this place. And for now, I do what I can and must, and see the good that is always there, even if sometimes it's hidden.