The Pause Before the Cut

Before the white chrysanthemum the scissors hesitate a moment.

Every task has a moment like this, just before the first cut. The hand knows what it came to do, and still it waits, not from doubt but from regard. This morning it might be the pause before you send the message, pour the second cup, or answer the question someone asks. A breath's width is enough. In that small space the thing in front of you becomes real, and what you do next becomes more exact.