A letter from the one who is becoming
in the morning’s wee hours.

You must have created the life we know in the darkness of early morning.

Our texts say you first created light.  It says You swept over the emptiness

as wind and that
that over which you swept
was waters.

I get the need to make light.  I like light.  It helps me to see
that the imaginings under my bed, that scare me, are just imaginings.
And, of course you made light first.

It’s the first thing I make in the morning too
when I light the candle
and sit to find you or
at least, to
see that I can find you if I want to.
And sometimes I am angry.
So I don’t.
But I still see you there.
Looking at me. Kindly.

But I find it hard to believe you did not create the darkness,
so full of majesty and mystery.
It has You written all over it.

in the darkness
this morning
seems created.

It is too pregnant with possibility
and it is the container of longings,
that dark blue of a coming dawn.
It is too silent,
too lovely,
too peaceful,
too creative
not to have been made by you
in the beginning.

I love the windy, dark, morning.

It is silent and it waits.

Let there be
something new.

But not quite yet.
Not till I have enjoyed this tea and this nothingness
for a wee bit longer
The One Who Is.

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