A Little Creativity is What I Need...

The morning is crisp and cool.  Sitting on my favorite bench, the sun rises and the rays warm my soul.  I sit basking in the glory of the sun, thanking God for the moments I am given.  As I watch the sun slowly rise in the east, I close my eyes and picture each speck of sunlight softly landing on my skin.  The warmth is rushing over me like a wave soaks the sand.

I witness the flowers unfolding and raising their faces to drink in the golden rays.  It is a simple reminder of reliance and sustenance.  The petals are sun bathing and the leaves are warming themselves.  I watch in awe as I begin to realize the beauty of the sustaining power that is held in the sun.

As the rays continue to spill over the landscape, I begin to hear the morning laughter of the birds and the relentless buzzing of the worker bee scouting out the sweet provision of life that is willingly offered by the sunbathing flower.  I begin to realize how all things work together to maintain a pleasant life.  I’m faced with the reality of humanity’s lack of cooperation compared to nature’s collaboration.  I am an observer of a micro-world unaware of the human condition.  It is a system of giving and receiving; a life that goes unnoticed by the self-absorbed human.  I am only an observer; I am not a contributor to the beauty of their interaction.

The temperature rises then begins to fall.  I watch as the sun begins to say her goodbyes.  Her soft kiss caressing the creation she sustains; as if she is saying, “I’ll be back tomorrow, but for now, sleep well, my love.  Do not fear for the dark only lasts a moment.” 

The colors splash across the sky: yellow, then orange, then vibrant red.  The rays are piercing the soul with warmth that reaches the inner depths.  Unable to control myself, I throw my hands above my head and begin to dance, the smile permanent and tears streaming down my cheeks.

As the songbird sings her lullaby and the busy bee is tucked in, the crickets emerge to play a sad song mourning the descent of the sun and the frogs join in the chorus.  They mourn the sun’s goodbye, but lie in wait for her return—constantly waiting and passing time with song. 

The stars begin to twinkle—one, two, three.  The life-star is gone for merely a moment, but her power emanates within me.  I close my eyes and remember her rays dancing upon my face and being wrapped in the love of the sun’s embrace.