I rarely see the first light of day. I’m not against it, but my natural circadian rhythm wakes me at seven thirty when the sun has made her debut and is already ascending in the morning sky. On those rare days when I do occasion a glimpse of her first rise, I know I have witnessed something truly spectacular, a birth, a new beginning.
I am seeing my own sunrise right now. On the horizon her beauty greets me more brightly each day. She emerges wondrous and whole, a perfect arc arching forward. Her appearance not coincidental, designed, desired, and now required by me. Her presence arrives as beautifully as a bird’s melodic call filling my ears with joyful songs.
It is my calling, my soul’s reach. A hand offered a hand taken, pulling me out of my past into the present where all power lives to create my future. I have answered the call and I smile now, not for the world to see, but for me.
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