sunday morning ritual: waking before dawn, before the birds hint at dawn, before night has fully even settled over the earth. baltimore to east windsor. home to church, my house to God's house, my husband to the heavenly bridegroom.
daylight savings time: 4am coming earlier to my poor body. my poor body that loves the feel of a firm mattress and flannel sheets, a down comforter, my husband's body next to mine; maybe cuddling, maybe not, but feeling his presence there. there, where i do not have to sleep alone.
trading bed for interstate: i depend on music and headlights to guide me back from whence i came. some bach for the drive this morning, where the void of night met with the thick blanket of clouds that forbade any sense of light from reaching my eyes. no light from above, no light rising from the road, no flecks of reflection, but only dark. thick dark that felt like the end of the universe. thick dark that hid the rise of the road ahead of me and blurred the lane markers. dark as death.
today: the indecency of loneliness, the dark of four white walls. a day-turned-night of the lonely soul. no light reflecting from me, exuding from me, but only a small girl left wondering at the sad and peculiar world of comings and goings as she waves at the world passing her by.
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