Up before sunrise, when all is still calm,
we awaken to a new day’s tender breath—
leaving behind the hush of yesterday,
its tempests, its blessings,
its fleeting shades of joy and sorrow.
A little good,
a little bad,
a little happy,
a little sad—
the balance of hearts in the hush before dawn.
We step from our shelter,
turning once more to say farewell
to the walls that held our laughter and our tears.
The door closes, and the air whispers new beginnings,
yet the past lingers like perfume upon the air.
What has become of you, beloved?
Your absence drapes this house in blue,
a silence echoing through the rooms
where once your voice was morning’s music.
Still, in these hours of tender light,
we call to you across the unseen veil—
praying, dreaming, yearning
for the day you walk through the door again.
Hello, my dear.
Know this: you are always here,
woven into our every dawn,
our every breath of hope.
Here within the morning hours,
your spirit awakens with us,
and love remembers what time cannot erase.
The Writings of Felina Silver 
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