This Creeping Hope
A poem on the liminal, ephemeral beauty of sunrises.
there is nothing special about a sunrise, and yet… this simple, natural, promised thing, somehow manages to ring through human bones as if it is the most beautiful scene our eyes might ever behold. how many poems spurred, how many verses lush with lyrical colors & wondrous metaphors & divine inspiration? all for this thing that happens every. single. day. for every. single. life. until… maybe that is the beauty? maybe that is what spurs the stories, this idea that whenever we witness this creeping hope that blinds if we look too close, it could be the last one we’ll ever see… i watched this morning as night bended the knee to the light rising behind the bridge, casting sharp iron silhouettes across gentle waves, sunbeams danced over the ducks, dappled the water. as our sun bathed my face in warm cinder & bronze starfire, i smiled like i haven’t in far too long a time, because i think at last i see, this intricate, supernatural unpromised thing, someday will happen without me. a day will come when i no longer belong to these bones, and so i should savor this warmth, this joy while there is still time yet…
YOUR PROMPT FOR THE DAY
Describe the last time you watched a sunrise, or perhaps a favorite time. Think about how you felt as you were warmed by its rays. If you’ve never seen a sunrise, free write about beginnings.
If you decide to share something for this prompt, be sure to tag it on social media with #CountdownToTheStars.
This post is the “Sunrise” entry in the Countdown to the Stars blog series. To learn more about the countdown and the book (coming Nov 2022) visit stillthestars.com.
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Featured photos by Elayna Mae Darcy © 2022