The Sun Rises Before You Are Ready

The screen lights up. A simple question from a name you know.

And your chest locks tight because you don't know how to answer without revealing that you are lost. The morning is here, gray and quiet, and the mask feels heavier than it did last night.

You stare at the words, afraid that typing back will shatter the illusion that you are holding it together. But listen — the rising sun does not wait for you to be ready before it shines.

It comes anyway, tender and merciful, to guide your feet into the path of peace. You do not have to have the answers to be held by the light.

The dawn breaks over the confused and the certain alike. The light is already inside you, waiting for you to put the phone down and just breathe.