In the dark, cool morning, I step.
In just a moment of time, the earth will turn, the sun will slip across the equator in it's journey back to us and the season will just as easily slip from winter to spring. A mathematical equation. A moment in time. Predictable. Explainable. Incredible.
In the dark, cool morning, there are no stars.
High, wispy clouds float across a cresent moon. Too many lights from neighborhoods around us shine on the clouds hiding the glittering community of stars overhead.
In the dark, cool morning, I stand, a cup of something warm in my hands, breathing the rich steam.
Never again in the history of time will this moment happen just this way again. If I live 100 years, I will only see spring 100 times.
Please God, let me notice the details.
Let me not get so busy that I forget to see, to hear, to taste, to enjoy the changes. In the wide wheel of time, let me remember to focus on the beauty and precision that is creation. This place, this moment.
In the dark, cool night, I stand, welcoming back the sun,
although darkness still reigns.
The fountain in the goldfish pond splashes. Nearby, a mockingbird sings for his mate, liquid notes into the soft early morning. My toes in the hastily slipped on sandals are chilled.
Wake up, earth.
The sun returns bringing with it light, warmth, and the potential for growth. What will I do with this moment, this time, this spring?
In the dark, cool night, I stand, dawn just over the horizon.