I love the sunrise. Being an awed audience to the Sun's growing majesty emphasizes the pure chance of my being alive that day. I silently thank my lucky star (you guessed it) for allowing the series of random events that precipitated to my existence on that day; to bear witness to the biggest reason life exists on the lonely planet.
I love the sunrise. I am fascinated by the way it hits the metal fender both of the bridge I am standing on and my lowly means of transportation - my automobile. Just by reflecting the magnificence of the day bringer, these common artifacts are raised from obscurity. The light from the lifegiver defines them: This is a car. This is a bridge. If not by reflection then by contrast. The gentleman in the far horizon is exalted because his silhouette stands him apart from the riff raff around him.
I love the sunrise. I am fascinated by the way it hits the metal fender both of the bridge I am standing on and my lowly means of transportation - my automobile. Just by reflecting the magnificence of the day bringer, these common artifacts are raised from obscurity. The light from the lifegiver defines them: This is a car. This is a bridge. If not by reflection then by contrast. The gentleman in the far horizon is exalted because his silhouette stands him apart from the riff raff around him.
I love the sunrise. I was named after the sun. I don't always rise with It. But the days I do, whether by accident or design, I am filled with a new confidence. Along with the discomfort from the unaccustomed earliness of the hour and the metallic sharpness of the morning air, is a sense of surety in my ability to conquer the day. Everything seems possible at that moment. I survey my surroundings with the satisfying superiority of ownership. I revel in the growing energy from the omnipresent light around me and for a second transform into my namesake, if only in mind.
I love the sunrise. For I am the sun and as I rise the world rises with me.
