The Light Rises on Who You Are

The house is waking up, and you are counting the footsteps in the hall. You hear the quiet tread of someone who is slowly turning away from the person you used to be.

The silence between you feels like a door closing. But look at the light coming through the window.

It does not ask your partner if you are still worthy before it touches your face. It rises on the old you and the new you with the same fierce tenderness.

You are terrified that their love is fading, and that is a heavy weight to carry into the morning. Yet the light that lives inside you was not built by their affection, and it cannot be dismantled by their distance.

It was there before you met them, and it will remain when the fear passes. The sun does not wait for permission to shine on you.

It just rises. You are still here, and the light has not moved.