Before the Light Breaks

The dark holds its breath, a thick stillness that knows how to keep secrets.

Every shadow learns to wait— to stretch, to deepen, to become almost permanent before the first crack of gold.

There is a space where nothing lives, neither night nor day, where the world holds itself in patient suspension, uncertain of its own becoming.

And then— light spills across the threshold, casual and inevitable, and we forget we ever knew how to be still.