The Invitation

I do it often, drag a perfect morning in through the front door of myself and make it a reluctant guest, replace its colors with my own dour palette, drown out its soft voice with noise. It has become a habit, trying to confine the morning's width within my space, hold its edges so it doesn't stretch beyond my reach. Its freedom is almost an anathema to me for it exceeds my own. How small my world has become. The distance from one side of myself to the other is getting narrower, the little room left is depleting breath by breath. The light squeezes through ever smaller windows. And yet, as it came upon me this morning, I was met with a bright abundance that had gathered at my door, carrying forgiveness for my habitual ignorance and an invitation to step outside myself, once more.