it isn’t easy to curl out
of the warmth and comfort of home these days
when all moments before dawn
are covered in a white layer of frost.
thick fields of fog stretch along the river valley
which I bike through
on my way toward the station.
but then, after a few moments out in the cold,
these limbs grow brisk,
anxious to unfold and reach.
as the train arrives, clouds of collective breath arise
and a first sip of coffee
rings in the morning glory.
on the train, faces of strangers
as well as those of a two-year familiarity
travel on through
these last hours of darkness.
as we descend from the platform
and disperse through the city,
the sky has changed:
it’s beginning to lighten, shine,
there above my head.
it’s yet another day
to show up for the work, the building of something
that’s larger than me,
than all of us.
cheeks rosy, sleeves rolled up, eyes wide open,
it’s time to take the leap
for none of us ever really knows
what it’ll all look like
in the end.