under a triangle roof

monday, overcast, chilly. another winter day. yet something has happened. in the last days, an idea has been growing, or rather: unfolding - as if it had evolved slowly, almost unnoticeably underneath the surface of the days. to take shape now, in all its possibility.

the odd thing is that the source of the idea always had been there. all the time, since i live here: the attic. it was forgotten space, though, empty but for an old wooden box that gathered time. there is no easy access to the attic. to get there, i have to climb up a narrow steep stairway. that's why i never go there. and until last summer, it felt there is no point of going there anyway, as the attic holds nothing but dust.

then came the days of dry heat last summer, a heat that stood in the house and wouldn't leave. what to do, i wondered, and climbed up there one evening, to open the small windows for the night, to let in fresh air. and stood there, mesmerized by the view those tiny windows offered. a view that was hiding there, behind those old walls. and i found myself, imagining to take out those pieces of bricks, and put glass there. just an idea, i thought. and left it at that.

yet the idea remained. and this winter, i found myself, dreaming of sitting there, under this triangle roof, on a sofa, with the sunlight pouring in through the glass, or with orion rising at the horizon.

and isn't it perfect timing for this idea? january, the start of the year. the time of first seeds starting to reach for the light. the time of beginning. the time of printing poems of unknown authors, to put them on the windowsill, to catch this hazy mood.

This is the beginning of a new day.
You have been given this day to use as you will.
You can waste it or use it for good.

What you do today is important
because you are exchanging a day of your life for it.
When tomorrow comes,
this day will be gone forever;
in its place is something that you have left behind -
let it be something good.

~~~