Oh how I loved getting up before dawn. Before the kids were up.
Time to myself while the world was quiet.
Only me, the candle, my rocking chair, and the bank of plate glass windows, and the dark.
I watched dawn creep over the green hills and the vast lawn behind our apartments.
A new day.
Born of silence.
Made strong by reflection — me and my candle.
It’s light reflecting off the dark windows.
Witnessing the birth of a new day.
One that promised to be different.