WARM EMBRACE

Manon Vialet

I wake every morning
with a delicate hunger,
as the first light spreads across the hills,
the room filling with gold.

The sun lingers on my skin
as though it knows me well,
a soft touch,
a whisper without words.

I reach out to meet it,
its warmth seeping into my bones
till it seems as if
I were nothing but this flame.

And in this light
there is found some peace in the knowing
that, no matter how far I go,
it will rise again.
Always.