The Sun.

In the quiet of the morning, in the stillness before dawn, in the dusky pale light, before the sun has come.

I close my eyes, throw open my heart and wait for you.

I am waiting for you to touch me; to embrace my battered and bruised.
I wait for you in the open spaces of my mind.
I wait in the bottom of my toes.

And then you come.

Tears roll, falling and sliding and dancing off my freckled face.
My heart pounds.

The sun breaks the hilltop horizon and I am engulfed in the astounding golden light of the sun.

Like the smile of a lover or a child, small. Full of grace and wisdom and love.

I have waited. He has come.


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