Hush. Night fades to silver, holding its breath, waiting, waiting. Pink rises from the mountaintops, trailing gold from its toes, lighter, lighter. You hear it in your soul, feel it, see it, the rising chorus, the symbol crash, the sun breaking, glorious, as dawn arrives triumphant. Sing.
Most of my days, I rise before dawn. It’s a magical time. Still. Quiet … a few bird twitters. I am awake, yet not. If possible, I would spend the first few hours of my day silent. It seems appropriate. Listen before I speak.
Summer sunrises are my favorite. A pastel wash over dewy grass. A cool appetizer before a sizzling day. A promise. For even when you despair of life, dawn offers you the possibility that today will be different. Today will be a new beginning.
Take it and fly.
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