it filters through the window
it dances across the bed
it shines into my space
leaving a golden path across my hands.
my hands are clicking
and the golden light stays there upon their backs.
now it's 8:09
and this moment is gone.
as I sit here to write
the sun will rise
and this moment will happen again.
Yeah, I know. Faith writing poetry – not the norm. But I've been strangely inspired to write some free verse lately... *shrugs*