Harrison Root

There's something about a morning, quickly come, and quickly gone,
But the freshness and the beauty makes it worth that morning yawn.
Watch the sun slow dry the dew
And light against the dark does move
Still and calm and fresh and clean is the invite from a dawn.

Looking through a doorway
 that seems so dark, 
I struggle to believe that You have any good in mind.

As I process the loss
 that I must choose,
I tell myself 
that through it I will find

That You are good.

That within the darkness I see now
 somewhere there is light;
And when You've brought me through
 this shadow, I just might
 smile; and know that 
You are good

For always, forever, my love never ending
My arms always open, my ear always bending
To hear you, Yes You, the words from your lips
To embrace you, surround you with warm love's eclipse. 
Perfection: too feeble a word to describe
The depths of the promise filled cup we enbibe.
I am the place you can share and confide
Your troubling feelings, your prayers thought denied.
I care for you, walk with you through calm and wild,
I am with you through thick and through thin, my child.
For you, and your best I'll be always defending,
For always, forever, my love never ending.

Much blessed are those whose internal compass,
Has function immortal, unparalleled focus:
That wherever they're found, whether urban or rural,
There's a map in their mind, a directional mural.
Traveling journeys, through deserts or oceans
The strength of their mind varies never by motion.
Comparing my knowledge, unmeasurably scanty,
For all I can ever locate is my pantry.

I just want a simple life,
filled with simple joys and pleasures
Where I'm satisfied to be content
with simple lasting treasures

Simple things like laughter
at something silly done or said,
Simple happiness that comes
from finally curling up in bed.

That simple smile from a stranger,
A simple conversation with a friend,
The quiet watching of the sunset
when the day is at its end.

A simple steaming cup of coffee,
Singing simple songs,
A carefree whistle in the morning,
Finding to which sock every other one belongs.

Bread and butter for a snack,
A simple stroll around the block.
A hand to simply hold in mine,
in silence, or as we softly talk.

A book to read to fill the time
A simple line to write
Counting all the shooting stars
Getting lost in fire light


In the face of all the complex things 
this world is telling us to be,
When I wish for rest, or think of what is best,
(I know that) It's the simple life for me.

There are days
when the sky feels closer
than the ground beneath my feet.

I walk through quiet streets,
carrying conversations
I never had the courage to finish.

A window glows in the distance,
soft and warm against the evening,
and for a moment
I remember

not every light
is meant to lead us somewhere.

Some are simply there
to remind us
that darkness is never
the whole story.

So I keep walking,
slowly,
letting the night pass through me,

until somewhere between
the last shadow
and the first morning light,

I find a little piece
of myself
still waiting to be seen.

I miss you in the quiet hours,
when the world has gone to sleep,
when memories slip through my fingers
and settle somewhere deep.

I still find you in little things—
in songs we used to hear,
in the warmth of an empty chair,
in every voice I wish was near.

I loved you in the crowded days,
I love you in the blue,
and somehow every road I take
still leads me back to you.

If distance had a language,
I think it would say your name.
If missing you were a fire,
I'd burn inside the flame.

Maybe love doesn't disappear
when someone walks away.
Maybe it simply learns to live
in the places where they stay.

So if you ever wonder
whether I still think of you—
look up at the evening sky;
I'm probably looking there too.

I left my dreams beneath the tree,
where silver shadows crossed the ground,
and whispered all the things to me
that no one else had ever found.

The moon was hanging low that night,
a quiet lantern in the blue,
and every star became a light
that somehow led me back to you.

I walked along the empty road,
with yesterday beneath my feet,
carrying every hidden word
I was too afraid to speak.

Then morning slowly touched the sky,
and painted gold across the gray.
I watched the darkness fade and die,
but somehow wished that it could stay.

Because some nights are meant to remain,
like little scars we never hide—
and some memories bloom after rain,
still glowing softly from inside.