The Ones Who Sat With Me This Morning

The Ones Who Sat With Me This Morning

I did not plan to read today. Just wanted to move a few books around, maybe clean off a shelf or two. But once you touch one, something changes. You feel it. Like they are all waiting for you to notice them again.

The morning light came in soft. Warm across the floor. My tea steeped quietly beside me. Kila stretched long like she owned the house. Miko stared into a corner like he heard something I could not. It felt like a day that would not ask much of me.

I did not sit down with a plan. I did not go cover to cover. Just opened a few of my favorites, let them speak a little.

Vaughan's Thalia Rediviva came first. Not the one people know. This one is gentler. A little slower. He writes like he is remembering something that still glows in the dark. I only read a page. It was enough. His voice never feels heavy, even when it should.

Then came Neruda. The Yellow Heart is always close by. There is something about it that feels secret. Not loud. Just honest in a way most people are not. I opened it near the back. Read a short one. Sat with it. The way he holds love and sorrow together never gets old.

Mary Oliver was already nearby. Devotions sat open like it had been waiting for me. I only needed a few lines. She writes like she has seen the inside of your thoughts. Soft truths. No rush.

Sexton was next. The Book of Folly. That one hits differently depending on the day. Today it felt steady. She does not clean things up for you. She tells them how they are. I did not need more than a few stanzas to feel that.

Ecclesiastes whispered from memory. I did not even have to reach for it. That line about the sun rising and setting floated through like it always does. Like it belongs in the silence.

I sat there with them, not trying to figure anything out. Just listening. Letting them each say one thing. That is all I needed.

By the time the sun moved across the floor and the tea was cold, I felt like something had shifted. Not in a big way. Just enough to make the day feel honest.

Sometimes that is all I ask for.

Drakovi Bloodrose