I watched

I watched the sun come up today.

I woke up ever so early.
A thought. A picture. A want in my mind.
Sunrise. How wonderful that would be.
I rise. I groom. I dress.
I wake the little one without much stress.
“What are we doing?” This, the question at hand.
A surprise. An adventure. This, the words that flow.
Driving in the darkness, small conversations ensue.
An inquisitive mind wonders.
An hour’s length we drive.
“This is my beach.” An excited smile bursts.
It belongs to all who care to claim it.
Today. It was hers.
“What are we doing?” Question of the hour.
“Watching the sunrise.”
“Why?”
“Because we can.”
-Silence-
“There’s nothing to do.”
“There’s plenty to do. Let’s watch God paint the morning.”
“How does he paint the morning?”
“With the colors of faith, hope and love?”
“Why?”
“Because he can.”
-Silence-
The sand castle goes up.
Meditating. Answering small wondrous questions.
A light hits my eyes.
The Sun.
Bright and hot. Very pink.
Climbing..Climbing..ever so slowly presenting itself to us. I point it out.
“It looks like a pink marble.”
“On a beautiful blue canvas.”
“It is like a painting.”
“I told you.”
-Silence-
A long hug.
Birds singing, laughing, paying us no never mind.
Climbing still. Not struggling. Making it’s way into place. Right where it belongs.
Not held back. Waking up the day.
The sand castle continues.
A boat dredges by breaking into the morning song.
Somehow it doesn’t matter, just a little change. Kind of belongs there.
Adaptation.
I look to the light projected by the sun. it leads to a pool directly below as if dripping from the canvas.
I smile. Faith, hope and love.
The world is right again.
I feel warm, tingly if you must.
Another boat in the distance adding harmony to the song.
A new beginning. A new step.
“We should do this more often.”
“Yeah I like the sand….Gods picture is pretty too.”
“It sure is baby, it sure is.”
Sand castle construction stops. The search for seashells begins.
“Can we live here?”
“Maybe one day baby.”
I look up again. The sun brighter almost blinding.
I hurl my stresses into it.
“Burn!!”
“What?”
“Nothing, Just talking out loud.”
“Oh”
Another shell found.
The birds are growing in numbers, gliding across the canvas, not smudging a thing.
Still climbing. I imagine it does all day.
Always climbing, never reaching any one destination, giving way to the moon as needed.
A relentless cycle of beauty.
I’ll watch it more often.
Seems like life…. or what it should be.
A cycle, old giving way to new, changes made, replenishing every so often, when necessary.
No stresses, just the beauty.
“Yeah, I’ll watch it more often.”