Morning Hours

There is something magical about the early morning hours, when the world around me is just waking up. 

Slowly, quietly I move through the house, in the dark, as to not wake the others. 

I sit on the lounge, amongst the silence and listen. Nothing exists but me, my breath and the birds outside waking up to sing their songs. 

The sun begins to peek through the curtains and cast an amber glow on the walls. 

I am here. Present in my body. Safe and calm. 

As I close my eyes, I can hear my babies breathing and adjusting in their beds. Slowly waking after a full, good night of sleep. 

I feel content and proud. No longer who I used to be. No, that shell of a human is gone now. She found her wings and flew home to herself. 

Now she finally feels safe. 

Safe to heal. Safe to learn.

Safe to explore.

Safe in herself.