Where the Light Learns to Leave
The sky breaks softly—
not in silence,
but in a slow-burning confession of light.
Gold spills through the ribs of clouds,
like something sacred trying to escape,
like a secret the horizon can’t keep anymore.
The trees stand still,
bare, listening—
their branches inked against the fire of dawn,
as if they’ve seen this before
and know better than to speak.
Below, the water remembers…