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Rated: E · Monologue · Opinion · #987425
This is my entry into this week's Reason for Life contest.
So what are my thoughts about sunrise? That moment of light that isn't light. My awakening. "How's this - I live 365 lives a year and each day is a complete life. Birth, childhood, teenage-hood, adult-hood, the twilight years, the golden years and death are all experienced over and over again every day. Each morning moment begins this process. This process of daily life. Yes, maybe that's my position. I live 365 lives a year.

So let me explain.

It is the first peek of light, the hint of birth and the first bird that greets the day. You know the scene. It truly is first light. Liken this to the process of birth and, for me, I am opening my eyes, not unlike a newborn. My mind emerges from my warm bed, my night-time/early morning womb shall we say. I am born. I am born to my first moment in the world, my first moment in the day.

I rest, I ponder, I see, I feel, I am not quite awake. Only my mind does the work. Like a newborn, like a child.

Time passes, only moments, and more birds join the chorus of morning. I hear the noise of sleepless Man; trains, cars, traffic. I do not concern myself. For now, I just know, I want to stay warm, stay in my bed, my night-time womb.

I resolve to live as I am now awake. I am no longer asleep and I must add my notes to the symphony of life. Yet still clumsy, I leave the womb. Like a toddler, I seek to rid myself of the heavy sleep that has held me captive all night and I must rummage for meaning. I am not alert, I am only as bright as the yet-to-show-himself, Sun.

Still dark inside, I venture onto my porch. I am still without words, just like a toddler. I am the only one here, I don't need to talk, I just need to think. And so I do. About what? About anything.

No longer a newborn, fledging out of my terrible twos stage, I welcome the world. I welcome the day with breakfast. I have grown up.

By the time I have finished breakfast, I become the teenager of my day; energetic and ready to go. After that an adult by lunch, and by the twilight I will become the sensible middle-aged person that I can be.

Then comes the night. The golden years until I retire. Until I sleep. I will crawl into my bed, I will make my way, to my evening grave, my midnight tomb. There I will rest, there I will rest-in-peace. There I die. Only until the morning, the first peak, the early dawn, the morning chorus when my tomb, becomes my womb, again. I am reborn.

I live 365 lives a year and each life holds a remnant of my previous life.

The crowning sun in those silent hours amongst the chaos of sleepless Man, gives me another life.

That's also the hour of the day that I don't actually care about what my responsibilities are. In that peaking moment of light, all I have to do is think. I know comfortably in that moment, that for this day, all I have, is a duty to live. My life awaits me.

I'll be who I am today, and I'll wonder who I'll be tomorrow?
© Copyright 2005 chelseamaree (chelseamaree at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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