Stillness of Morning

To my Beloved,

In the stillness of
the early morning
I pull the quiet over me.

Silence descends
Light streaming in
soft, luminous.

(Briefly, I wonder,
“Where does this light originate?
Outside, or in?” It matters not.)

In solitary quietude
Self disintegrates
Fragments dropping,

Vision becomes pure
without the lens of time,
person, culture, or history.

There is no time,
No where to go
Nothing to do.

Now is simply
Breathing
Sitting, being.

There is profound peace
Here, now, in this
tranquil space, with you.

I love you
with a quiet, slow, warm
love emanating.