Languid rays give light to form
It is cold outside, but the sky continues to delight.
This morning I looked at the sunrise and noted how every morning the sunrise shows the unfolding of things coming into form.
From darkness there is movement in a positive direction into light and fire — the sun floats up on the horizon lighting the sky with colour and illuminating all that was at rest in the darkness of the night, with the seed of becoming form.
In the dawn, the winter trees are outlined against the crystalline white of the snow — bouncing the sun’s languid morning rays off of its surface. The roof lines and homes appear on the landscape as the beings inside begin to stir, waking from their dreams. Rested. Well. They walk out into the Arctic morning air as the sun turns the sky from its pinks and blues into the winter white above.
It’s amazing to me that this happens every day; moving from darkness to light marks our dawn, and our return to dusk.
I think it is like that with each of us, we begin again new, and yet continuous.
We are stirred from darkness into movement in a positive direction and a fire — a divine spark — lights up inside of each of us, giving us the freedom to choose life, wholeness, and health in small and big ways.
Each day with our graces of freewill, the sun beckons us to make what we will of each morning’s sunrise so that when it sets we rest, rejuvenate, move into darkness to hibernate, heal, and emerge again at dawn’s beginning transformed by light.
This morning’s sunrise lit my heart on fire: it was streaked with pinks and blues filled with light on an otherwise overcast Minnesota sky, reflecting the waters below above.
The sun at the horizon line earnestly spilled colours from the previous nights dreams and darkness. And as the sun moved from its horizon line into the sky high above the brilliance of the colours faded away into blanched whiteness — a cloud coverage back-lit with the suns rays.
To think such beauty resides in darkness to be shown to us again and again and again. The Gunas at play.
This article was first published in The Tattooed Buddha and can be viewed here.