Morning light marks the present

The light streaming onto the windowsill slowly strokes the wood grain of the table.

Its movement holds no regrets of the past nor anxieties for the future.

It is simply like alchemy, dissolving into the moment called 'now'.

I realize that 'nothing was ever missing to begin with'.

This breath, this light, this silence.

Everything is a perfect gift.

The past is an unraveled thread; the future is an open sky.

The morning light gently carves the truth that simply being here is the beginning of everything.

I pray that happiness finds those who read this article.