It’s that feeling you get when you wake up to a morning song, that warmth you feel when you have a message on your phone, when you look at the morning sun and your mouth smirks into a smile for no reason. It’s that blossoming, subtlety of light from your furred warm chest be it, bare or not, breathing life into you. It’s that crinkled face, that yawned eye, and that tired tear that comes from opening that first breath on a cold winter morning. It’s that silent melody of the heart that listens and yearns, beating echoes of soundness into your being. It’s the soft feeling of contented cushion all around you when you can’t get up, the cloudy accumulation of soothing comfort. It’s that recognition of knowing there are others around you connected through the bonds of light, friends in the light, simple yet firm in concreted attachment. It’s the thought of that warm shower, with the biting bitter cold of distance between you and bliss, terror, that cold is, weight through measure and beyond. It’s that simple feeling we all get when we wake, it’s simply the light of love.