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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.


sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
August 9, 2024/6:56 PM

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