The Sun Came Up Again

I wrote this one spring morning in 1998. It’s one of my favorites, because it’s real and it was what I was thinking and feeling that morning. When I came across it again on this cloudy morning, I thought maybe it could be the beginning of a novel. The title would be attention getting too, don’t you think? I believe it would most likely be a tale about never giving up, which would be fitting. I need to write… something.

the sun came up againThe Sun Came Up Again

The sun came up again, across the street, in the neighbor’s yard, through early budding tree limbs. The sky glowed fiery red, then golden, then dazzling white, as another day began. A slash of light fell ‘cross my arms as I wrote, and the thought crossed my mind I’d said too much, heard too much, and suddenly… things had changed. I wondered if they had changed for the better. I hoped so. I’ve changed things before, by being too open. Too honest. I’ve watched the sun come up, regretting words I’d spoken the day before, things I’d done. You would think I’d learn. I have learned. I’ve learned the sun will come up. Sometimes you will see it and feel it, sometimes you won’t, but it’s there.

And I’ve learned love is like that. At times you can bask in its warmth and feel its arms wrapped around you. A flash of it will lay across your heart. Then… at other times, it falls silent and cool. It’s still there, just not as obvious. The thing is, you have to know it’s there. Never doubt it. Never turn away. Just know that behind the cloud, behind the mountain, behind whatever has made the warm glow fade… It is there. You have to let it be there. You have to want it to be there. It can’t always be glorious. It can’t always be spring.

Copyright © 1998 C Mashburn

 

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