It had started out so peacefully.
The pale, peach sky lingered out,
Stretching out into the horizon,
Disappearing behind the black city.
The light breeze blew,
Combing its gentle, warm fingers
Through my hair,
Blowing it this way and that.
Every minute I stood out there,
Basking in the glory of the morning,
Nothing else mattered.
I felt complete, whole.
I wiggled my tired toes,
Drops of dew
From the blades of verdant grass
Dripping onto my bare feet, tickling me.
Before chaos ensued,
It its routinely manner,
I stood outside every morning,
Speaking inwardly to my creator.
And He always listened,
His nod creating a comforting wind,
And His smile peaking out from the horizon,
I knew every morning that He was there.
And although at times it's hard for me to understand,
He is always there, always listening, and always loving.