Savage Innocence

In the early hours of the morning, when my mind is too full for rest, when there is nothing here but my own body and someone seated across from me studying, a dog asleep on the couch and too many things I should be doing. In these days when the fear and loathing of papers and exams have set in, when I have finished the glass of wine I should never have poured and I know that sleep will not come. When the quiet is so loud it engulfs me. This is what I know: 

The morning will come too soon and it will be vivid. The world outside of my own world will begin to move and pour its coffee. The days will go on like this until they do not. I will waste hours in thought, move slow and deliberate. The requirements of life will weigh on me. Every moment, still, filled with unending grace.