Through the Break

Through the break in silver, light pours like honey, golden and thick with possibility. We watch it come— the fog relenting, dissolving its hold on the valley below.

There is no rush now, only the slow unfurling of what was hidden, each tree emerging as itself, each stone remembering its own weight.

The air tastes different on this side of the fog— sharper, alive with detail, with the small fierce beauty we forgot was waiting.

We could stay here, suspended in this knowing, but the light keeps coming, patient and inevitable, and we are learning to follow it.