The gift emerges silently, gradually, from the darkness.
It cannot be seen, only instinctively presumed.
It exists in the ether of morning waking.
Tentative at the first revealing, it becomes
confidently bold as minutes pass and
competing gifts surrender
for another day.
It stands alone, as one presented to a
dignitary or a royal court. Then,
still sitting on the side of the bed,
feet dangling into the day,
I extend my mind as a gesture
of welcome.
We both, the gift and I,
recognize the possibilities
of our friendship, and
we both smile at the
prospects.
The day begins with a gift, a single word.
Encounter