It’s the weight of blankets in the morning’s hush,
The birdsong presented in the dawn’s first blush.
The cold floor beneath my waking feet,
The lingering scents that make spaces sweet.
The warmth of sunlight slipping through the blinds- a quiet echo of simpler times.
It’s the something in everything, subtle yet bright,
Existing without need for sight.
The way life hums in moments small,
A quiet presence embracing all.