Your world is waking up. My world is thinking about dinner. The sun gets ready to set here so it can rise for you. The silence in this place makes the birds seem so loud. The pheasants here cause Daniel talk of eating them as their caw is unlike any beautiful music. A building so old the windows are blurry to look from. Smells from another time evoke reflections of history and dirt.
My mind has nowhere else to linger but in the present; finding the everything inside the nothing of this awareness. I would that I were underwater, weightless and flexible. My limbs long to stretch, not like the gnarled branches but the like strong trunks of tress just outside the hazy glass.
So to breakfast with you; to bed for me. And while we are still speaking the same language, I say Good morning and Goodnight.
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