Rising Sun

July 23, 2010
By Anonymous

Flowers blooming and life sprung,
it’s the first day of spring.
Yet I can still catch a glimpse of my breath
hovering in the winter air.
I can still feel, as it fades,
the sting of icy needles on my face.
I’m watching my feet as I walk,
step by step,
they always seem to change.
Sometimes they get caught in wet cement,
and I’m stuck for a while.
Sometimes I can feel tiny rocks in my shoe,
and I stop,
only for a second,
though I see many more ahead,
to take them out.
Sometimes my feet move faster,
faster than I can count the steps they make,
and soon I can see a glance of sunlight
sparkle on the path ahead.
I smile.
My face rises as the sun does now,
for I have seen the shadows of life,
and I have seen my own shadow.
Now I stand proudly,
my shadow cowering behind me,
to face the rising sun.
The light floods around me,
heating, blinding, flowing,
with a burst so strong that now
I am shadowless,
I am free.
I am on the ground.
A leaf,
I catch the stirring breeze,
and hold on tightly,
until I am blown away,
all the way,
to that golden horizon.

Years have passed,
I’ve made it here,
the sparkling hills under my feet.
The air wraps me in its warm embrace,
and the grass tickles softly.
Feeling the indents the rocks left in my shoes long ago,
I try to take them off.
They are stuck.
I let them stay.
The sun moves over me,
and it is only now,
that I am free.

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