A sunrise by the sea

The sea without daylight is eerie. It’s beautiful and yet daunting. It is not the friend I know it to be when the sun is above us. At night it is more like the big hollow inside me.

With only the whites of the waves visible… the wind… the darkness and the vastness of it all is enchanting and scary at the same time.

And before the sun comes up, it starts getting bright… slowly. First you see the horizon lighten up a bit… with the ocean still dark and awry.. Then as it gets brighter and the sun has not yet risen, the mood of the water shifts.

It becomes as restless as a woman waiting for her man to come home. The sea foams and rivets, as if she has a hand on her wreathing chest, impatient as the impending arrival draws nearer. Then the horizon becomes pink… and one can feel the nerves of this lady giving sparks of joy, as if she’s seen the shadow of her man through the sill, a visage that she knows too well.

And then he comes home. The sun is crimson and caring. He is the man who assures calm. Hope. That everything will be alright. Because he will make sure they do.

All the darkness is gone immediately. First you can see only a part of the sun. And then… there he is. All of him. There’s only joy all around. The sea is celebrating. She dances and sings and muses and checks herself in the mirror.

The lady has waited far too long for him. He is hers. And he has come back to her.

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