The Light Meets You in Fatigue

The sun is up, but the weight in your chest did not leave with the moon. It waited right here, in the dark, for your eyes to open.

You are carrying yesterday into a morning that was meant to be new. There was a father who saw his son coming home from a long way off.

He did not wait for the speech. He ran.

Before the apology, before the cleaning up — he ran. The light does not ask you to be fresh.

It does not require you to have slept well or fixed your heart overnight. It meets you in the fatigue.

The same light that woke the world is already inside this tired body. You did not earn the morning by resting.

You received it. The exhaustion is real, but it is not the source.

The light is. And it is stronger than the weariness you woke up with.