Roused by its touch, a brush of cold air on my whole being; am now taking in the cold 4am air, as the eyes struggle to a still dark horizon.
Yet, it's already brimming with a series of breaths.
It is automatic, this habit of taking in each morning's freshness by the window...by the door, inhaling its serenity, slowly extricating the soreness, the brokenness of days past, lingering still, invading still a most precious solitude.
The atmosphere, already is filled with a variety of breaths: of faith, of hope, of silent prayers, and of endless gratitude.
The fragrance of dawn blends with raw anticipation, bits of uncertainty, and not to forget the most welcome aroma of hot coffee, as a new day kicks off.