There is a time of day that gives life.
Different for everyone, I'm sure.
And different seasons yielding different times.
It is work to find
and to take
but no work in the actual moments
they are joy.
The hardness of the day seems loose;
easy to shake off.
The good able to seep in;
to heal the soul.
Moments to think, play with words, laugh, complain, be silent.
Sometimes in company, sometimes alone.
It comes down like rain.
Sometimes to heal, sometimes to clean, sometimes to revive, sometimes to restore.
Often finding beauty in all of the day
...even the hard.
Tonight I see the stars before I even walk outside
the air is crisp on my cheeks
I breath in deep.