The waves push in stronger now, following the first timid ones up the canal into the bright orange that is the reflection of the rising sun. It leaves the outlines of boats, docks and boat lifts, scraggly tops of palm trees in shadow, dark silhouettes rising from Mother Earth. I watch the glistening christening unfold, this daily blessing of wondrous miracle that transforms our dark world into a moment of beauty , mesmerizing for just this instant. I listen to the cooing of the morning dove, the cackle of another in flight, the whispered lure of a woodpecker, the lament of the osprey above, all while bathed in this warm light that paints my knees a welcome gold. And I brush a biting gnat off my arm, my face, in this wind still moment, as though the world were holding its breath to watch the golden ball ascent high above our existence, certain it won’t fall.
I feel the heat kissing my face in ever blooming brightness, and squint through the light in my sunglasses.
Good morning world, you glorious breath of God! Good morning to you.
(c) 2017Iris B. Struller