copyright 2010 K. Omodele
Sunrise is a gold-smeared promise, with its hint of anticipation. Day clean; a new slate; a rebirth, like Spring, except The Son is only a day older. He's excited as he embraces each Dawn- a time to briefly contemplate then bury yesterday's mistakes. Can't undo what has been done. (Did Basquait ever erase smudges; did he cover smears?)
Sunrise is a vernal whisper cascading over dying winter silence. It blankets the algid night and its dew-draped freshness inspires, murmuring, "Today is a new day." Pond water steadily slushing over stagnant stones is his mantra, persistence will eventually form, shape and mold the unyielding. "Life is change; stagnation is death."
The Son rises with the sun. He rises like the sun...With the confidence worn by a warrior who has trodded through a hail of brimstone and gunfire, he meditates over his canvass, lifts his chin and continues painting the rest of Life's Journey...
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Sunrise is a vernal whisper cascading over dying winter silence. It blankets the algid night and its dew-draped freshness inspires, murmuring, "Today is a new day." Pond water steadily slushing over stagnant stones is his mantra, persistence will eventually form, shape and mold the unyielding. "Life is change; stagnation is death."
The Son rises with the sun. He rises like the sun...With the confidence worn by a warrior who has trodded through a hail of brimstone and gunfire, he meditates over his canvass, lifts his chin and continues painting the rest of Life's Journey...
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