Begun

Begun

In the hush before dawn, the sky’s pale blush
has just begun – a shy, amber sigh
that stretches over the rooftops,
painting the chimneys with liquid gold.

A lorry rumbles down the wet pavement,
its engine growling low,
the journey has just begun,
tyres spraying spray like restless thoughts.

At the platform, a train sighs its whistle,
doors sliding shut with a soft click,
the carriage shivers as it pulls away,
the adventure has just begun.

Two strangers meet on a bench,
their eyes lock over steaming mugs of tea,
a tentative smile unfurls –
conversation has just begun.

In a cramped flat above a chip shop,
a child’s first wobble on a battered bike,
wobbles, laughter, a scraped knee –
learning has just begun.

The old clock in the hall ticks louder,
each second a quiet promise,
the day, the year, the life itself –
all have just begun, again and again.

So let us raise our teacups to the start,
to the first note, the first step, the first word,
for every ending is merely a whisper
that something new has just begun.