I awoke very early this morning. Too early for rising but still aware. Outside, cloaked in cold darkness, I heard the first bird song. Its lone melody cracked the night silence wide open to reveal the coming day.
I glanced up at the dark window---wasn't it too early for song?
As the bird continued on, I watched the darkness of night ever so gradually fade away, revealing layers of shadows over the walls of my room. I thought of my days as a baker, watching the transition from night into dawn-----the shades of gray in between the two and the light's revealing power over the world outside the bakery windows.
In those early morning hours, I often heard the first bird's song. I was surprised at the early hour and the bird's ability to break the spell of darkness, boldly calling forth a new day. I wish I were as bold----to sing my songs without hesitance; to perch myself over the vastness of possibility and pierce the bubble of doubt with one true tone of being.
