With the sunrise. This is
where I begin my writing for the day.
I look out and hear my breath
catch. Ah, look at that, I whisper to
nobody but myself. It is a wintertime sunrise: a soft peach glow in the lower
sky, abutting the horizon as if it spilled right out of the top of the land. In
defiance of gravity. Up above the salmon streaks, the thick brow of dark lavender is
as much gray as it is purple.
The glowing beauty of color
and light and texture that blankets these winter mornings is so fleeting. It is
a quick little miracle, but only a gift for the one who is present and willing.
Willing, even, to step out onto the frosty white grass crunching underfoot to gaze
up toward the sky, to be gathered up behind the rows of evergreens dotted with
leafless deciduous trees.
And, so the sunrise occurs
even when there is nobody to honor its glory.
Yea, like the ecstatic poets
of old, my body longs for this view. The ‘Ahhh’ upon seeing this sunrise is as
fresh each time as the last. It is that gasp that tells my body – like a
messenger to the depths of my soul to raise my awareness, to reach out, up, over,
to listen deeply with my eyes, to drink eagerly with my heart.
The sunrise fills me with
love, health, vigor. It mixes with the fluids within to bring me closer to
perfect Wholeness, to complete Vision, to abiding Compassion.
My body fills up with it and it
is a tonic. A refreshment. A necessity.
Yes, I begin most mornings
with the sunrise. I let it guide me and nourish all that needs to be fed within.
I allow it to heal every single wound – however gaping or tiny – so that I am
brought fresh into the strength of the day.
And so I welcome in the
sunrise because it lasts within me. The sunrise and I meld into each other. The
beauty stuns me on this simple morning as I write my way into the day.
All blog images created & photographed by Jennifer J. Wilhoit unless otherwise noted. Please circulate images with photo credit: "©2015 JenniferJWilhoit/TEALarbor stories. AllRightsReserved."
