When 5AM comes, I tiptoe out of the house
And revel in the stillness of the morning when breath is dew
For seasons I imagined I was trapped on either side, with fitful sleep and nighttime duties but
Here I am - we are at peace
My son, you amaze us at your wide-eyed wonder,
you drive us nuts with your petulance
For the longest time I was helpless to watch as you overwhelmed us with need
It was heard in our voices - pitch and tone - rising with desperation, resignedly soft or low and breathless with concern.
So in the early years I would escape at 5 AM and run as hard as I could
Away, the spirit unsettled but the body resolute
Away to a self that sought peace but found little
This morning there was peace - here.