Morning Light

My soul dancing up and down on the rollercoaster of my emotions.

I once thought that I was strong, but I find myself tearfully in awe of the majesty of the universe. Its vast propensity for humbleness and forgiveness in spite of all affronts.  Simply amazing.

If only that I (we) could adopt even a small iota of that.

In the morning light one can find forgiveness.  Pure and infinite.

It is astounding.

For all of the troubles and folly in the world.  For all of the senseless destruction and defacement of the beautify of the Earth and its surroundings as far as the eye can see and even farther still to the little lumps of trash that float in the atmosphere in outer space, still. Like clockwork.  So predictable that us, simple humans, are able to track the path of him and time his rising and settings and other rhythms across the sky.  Still, so dependable he rises to grace her surface with his rays.

(And maybe it is not us but a duty, a long-standing promise made to her).

How can it be said that men, that masculinity is not nurturing and blameless forgiveness?  That masculine energy is not capable of unconditional grace and nothing short of delicate and coy beauty.  For every day that the sun’s rays climb above the horizon and send light to bounce off of the clouds, the leaves of the dew heavy trees and the underbellies of soaring seagulls that is yang.  Pure and simple.