• It started with the horizon.
    A thin, orange border that emerged from
    The apex of the skyline.
    It was a thread of orange
    That carried the weight of an everlasting blue,
    An overbearing heaviness that seemed
    Almost suffocating,
    Submerging celestial entities under the thick, rich, ultramarine,
    Until everything fades to black.

    But this thread of light
    Is a bright, yellow light;
    A pariah under the palms of its predecessors,
    Ostracized over the course of a hemisphere.

    How harsh, you say,
    How unjust, for this tiny piece of thread,
    To uphold such a large burden
    Upon the minute of its birth?

    Well, let me tell you that nature’s children
    Must all endure a trial,
    As infant turtles must trek across the gull-infested beaches,
    As particles of coffee beans must sift through the white, padded filters,
    And as stars must endure the burn of hydrogen fusing into helium,
    There is always a trial
    That precedes an extraordinary feat:
    Whether it be reaching the ocean, the coffee mug, or a stable state that illuminates the universe.
    Without the challenge, nothing is truly alive.

    So think of this, as you watch that thread of light,
    Watch as it weaves into layers of orange that
    Eventually stitches into the deep, cerulean quilt
    And swirls in pink, purple, and yellow hues,
    Celebrating the success
    Of overcoming the obstacle of
    Nighttime
    And embracing the success
    of,
    Daybreak.