Morning Balance

I climbed up the wooden flank of the end table to reach the low windowsill. The morning light cuts sharp across the polished ledge. At the center sat an overturned ceramic saucer left beside a small potted succulent. Stepping onto its raised rim, I lowered my stance, testing my footing on the smooth glaze. The ceramic was cold against my boots, but my center of gravity held firm. One focused breath, and the posture locked into place.