Sunlight Peeking

​Today I made a modest pilgrimage to the back of our house, to the artist studio that had slumbered in quiet neglect since early November. As winter’s chill set in and the relentless arithmetic of hardship demanded my attention at home, I hesitated at the threshold—a moment suspended like a line in an Eliot verse. With a deliberate crack, I broke the long-sealed door, and sunlight began to peek in, its golden fingers gently parting the stale air of forgotten creativity. In that delicate instant, hope, desire, and the remnants of dormant dreams stirred softly, as if ready to be roused by the tender promise of a new, uncharted dawn.