Between the warmth of the heart and the dark blue of the sea, the body remembers how to let go.

Poem:

Morning Without Clothes

The morning opens softly, a quiet warmth against the skin. The air holds the first light like a hand resting on the shoulder.

I walk toward the water with nothing between me and the day, only breath, only the pale gold of the sun.

Before me the sea is dark blue, deep as a thought not yet spoken. It waits without judgment, wide and patient.

I step in.

The cold gathers around my legs, then my chest, then the quiet places in the mind where old worries sit and circle.

For a moment the body burns with contrast— warm heart, dark water. Two worlds touching.

And slowly the sea begins its work.

Longings loosen, heavy thoughts dissolve like salt in moving water.

What remains is simple: the rhythm of breath, the open sky above, and a heart that feels clean again.