The Dawn Asks For This Self
The morning light is thin, and when you laughed just now, it sounded like a stranger sitting in your throat. You froze.
The sound belonged to someone else, someone you don't know anymore, someone who doesn't carry this weight. But the light does not require your voice to sound like it used to.
It only asks that you remain. When you split a piece of wood, the light is there.
When you lift a stone, you find it there. It is in the strange laugh, in the tight throat, in the silence after the sound dies.
You came from the light, and you are returning to it, even through this unfamiliar noise. The dawn is not asking for your old self.
It is asking for this one.
Drawing from
Gospel of Thomas 77, Gospel of Thomas 50
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