The Moment

The Moment

There is a moment

Between sleeping

And wakefulness,

A fleet-footed,

Transitory moment,

When my eyes flutter open

And the world is new,

Unfamiliar,

Devoid of my fears,

Anxieties,

Self doubts,

Obligations,

Circumstances,

And all the other burdens

I carry through

My waking hours.

A moment so brief,

When I am at peace

With the world,

And the world

Is at peace

With me.

This is the blessed moment

When all is possibility

And possibility

Is seeing things

Differently.

It is perhaps

The moment

When I am

Who I am meant

To be.

On my worst of days,

It is the moment of refuge,

An oh so brief respite

From all that

Too soon returns

To continue its work

Of crushing my soul.

And as the moment

Dissipates

Into consciousness,

I sigh and say,

“Oh, that.”

On my best of days,

These present days,

It is the newborn moment

When I get to experience

The surprise,

The wonder,

The delight

At just how beautiful

Life can be.

And as the moment

Dissipates

Into consciousness,

I smile and say,

“Oh, yes,

You.”