Sunrise Stories.

The night in May is short and restless, very soon interrupted by a choir of birds, fluttering their light wings and melodising the lyrics of our dreams. And slowly, and quite gracefully, the sun births and sends its overarching gleams to our room, the light so swift and the colour a hopeful yellow. I wake almost so suddenly, quite surprised by the lack of darkness and the vast presence of clarity.

The first thing I remember is to be grateful, for I know that the morning is always a chance to start anew and rise free from yesterday’s judgements and mistakes. It’s always an opportunity for me to be a new person, to be the hope and love that I wish could embody me and fade my humanity away, which is a disappointment, because the day brings many challenges and tribulations with it as well. However, as the sun shines and the clouds trespass it ever so gently, I’m not bothered to think about what could go wrong, but rather about the responsibility that lies within me to make it a rather beautiful start.

But then, there’s you. You are sleeping so gently, a smile meekly adorning your face. You are on the opposite spectrum of how what the morning could signify, because it hasn’t been so kind to you lately. The day brings with it a race with time, a heap of things to do as well as doubt and tension to overcome. The morning arrives and I could feel your heart sink with the weight you carry on your shoulders— not even this blueness of your sky could try to alleviate it.

I let you sleep, and I’m even afraid to wake you. The world is now a dream to you, designed by some restful ideas spiralling in your head. This smile of yours has become rare and to see it so evident tempts me to keep it there, rather than snip it away with the torrent of thoughts and responsibilities that come with waking up. It would be better to leave you be in that wistful nightly dream.

The morning has become such a lonesome experience, after it had been one we always shared with ultimate gratitude and splendour. I find myself sighing at how the world changes, not often so beautifully as we want it to be. No matter how challenging life could get, I’m still harnessed by the sun, by the beam of colours it puts into life and I could forget everything for some time and be the soul that keeps me alive.

Despite fears, you wake up. My hand starts to shake, as I feel the glass of your peace shattering, piece by piece. I whisper good morning, smiling, but you don’t reply. You merely wake up and ask what time it is. I shake my head and wonder if I could pull you into what’s unearthly again.. if I could take you back to who you were before.

So I ask you whether you have started resurfacing from that ocean. I ask you whether you have stopped immersing yourself and instead started floating skywards. You look at me, pulled into the orbit of our unearthliness and refrain from replying. You look at your weary hands and wonder if you have ever seen yourself lately.

I rest my hands on yours, asking you to let go. I rest my hands on your delicate fingers and ask you to collect what you have rediscovered. The morning light shines in your irises so brightly, and I see the man I always knew. Deep down I know you haven’t changed. It’s just the waves. It’s just the ocean you’ve been drowning in.

We hold hands and I try soaking you with love— a pure love, the kind you need. I soak you with the intention to find the love that once defined you so clearly because you haven’t been able to love anything recently. And dearest, this is very weakening— for love was the empowering force that lifted you to the light.

And I’m waiting till the mornings become your friend. Till then, I’m waiting alone, harnessing the love that will greet you once more.

It’s just a season of adversity, but you will never be the man you used to be before.