I realized something this morning. Dawn is a slow dance. A gentle thing. Measured.
And just because we cannot immediately see the sun,
dawn is still breaking.
Even as the first light of day banishes the darkest of night,
dawn is still breaking.
Before we can feel the warmth of morning,
dawn is still breaking.
Even as the sky changes colour leisurely,
dawn is still breaking.
As black becomes purple becomes lavender becomes the palest of yellow,
dawn is still breaking.
The sun does not rise in haste.
The sky changes as it should, as mother nature would have it.
There is no rush.
There is no angst.
Because everything beautiful happens naturally.
Like growth. And healing.
And dawn is still breaking.