After the First Thought

By Al Konda

It did not break—just entered, thin and low,

A single thread pulled gently through the air;

No louder than the light’s uncertain glow,

But once it came, it did not leave it there.

 

I felt it form before it turned to speech,

A shape that leaned toward meaning—not yet made;

I could have let it pass beyond my reach—

Instead, I watched it settle where it stayed.

 

The room was still. But now it held me too.

A name returned, along with what it brings.

The quiet shifted—not undone, but through

With the first trace of weight in simple things.

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When the day begins from within

There is a moment when the day doesn’t begin outside you.

It begins quietly, somewhere inside.

Not as a decision.

Not as something you choose to follow.

Just a thought.

It doesn’t arrive with force.

It doesn’t interrupt anything.

It simply… enters.

And once it does, the stillness changes.

Not completely.

The room remains the same.

The air is still quiet.

But something now holds your attention.

A direction begins to form.

Not fully shaped.

Not yet spoken.

But present.

And from that moment on, the day is no longer untouched.

It has begun.

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© Al Konda · The Poetry Elite