Sunrise

I write every morning as an exercise of imagination, I always write the first sentences that come to my mind. I try to hold on to the images, but they get lost in the flow of my mind. It is as if my body were at the mercy of the swing of the sea, so are the images, the ideas that arise and, just as I cannot control the tide, I also have no control over what I write. Does it make sense? The house is silent, everyone is asleep. Today the sun is shining, yesterday the day was grey. It's still too early, but my mind is already alert. I wonder how much longer it'll stay like this...