The sun rose this morning.
I know it rises every morning. That's what it's supposed to do. For the first time in what seems forever I NOTICED it had risen. With the short winter days there were mornings I was accompanying my younger daughter to her bus stop in pitch black. This morning was pink. The sky turned sixteen different colors of mother of pearl. There was a glow, a gorgous glorious glow.
Spring may still be a little ways off, but I've found hope. Hope for this moment, in this day. Knowing the sun is going to rise.
It's going to be okay.
I have noticed that the sun comes up earlier and earlier as well... because I get up in the 'Oh dark-thirty hours of the morning, as if I had somewhere to go...
ReplyDelete... and I let the idea that the sun will rise pull me thru to the next day, too. I tell myself that no matter how bad things are in a particular moment, that I have to keep going because tomorrow IS going to come. And I need to get it together so that I can meet it.