As Sure As The Sun Rises

I didn't take a picture. I should have. The minute I saw the sunrise (was it 5:57?), I knew it was a Tuesday gift in the making. I had been up since 4:30 a.m., a sick child to blame. But after he fell back to sleep, I stayed up, a Mama desperate for a quiet morning hour before the dawn of a long day.

And oh snap, here comes a poem. Because Lord knows we don't have enough poems about sunrises.

::

This morning it was sudden. Like the sky said,
"Let me just slip on a new shirt real quick."
And then tossed his black tee over the edge of the earth.
And stretched a tie-dyed top,
Pastel blue and chalky pink,
Over mid rift clouds,
Barely to horizon's belt.

And I heard the sun complain about the sky,
How he leaves his dark nights all over the earth,
As if it was somehow her job to pick up after him.

What an odd couple they make,
Those two,
How they bicker their way into beauty.

But as sure as the sun rises,
They are meant to be together.

::

So this was the gift--a simple, ordinary, quiet sunrise. All to myself. Let us never underestimate the power of quiet.

I'm sharing this one with the Tuesdays Unwrapped community gathering today at Chatting at the Sky.