Sunday, February 21, 2021

The sun rises; it is dawn here. In distant lands the day has already ended. Here the sun will slowly heat a frigid landscape. There, families have warmed on the beach.

Who am I to say that my dawn is my own?

I am in a kindergarten set aside for those who need special care. Let me grow slowly to feel your sunlight, Lord.

A mouse along the baseboards, what will I find that you have left?

(Letter #2,234)