The sun spills over the hills like a broken jar of honey,
staining the world in a bright, sudden glow.
The heavy sleep of the land is over.
Where the ground was hard and dark,
a sharp, new life pushes through the soil,
searching for the warmth of a clear sky.
I stand in the open field
and feel the pulse of the earth
rising to meet my breath.
🌷
Everything I carried through the long, cold months
falls away like a coat no longer needed.
The grief that felt so solid,
shattering now within my spirit,
dissolves in the wash of this brilliant morning.
🌷
The redbird moves through the wet grass,
a small fire against the damp earth,
while wild birds I have never seen
fling their music into the wide, deep space above.
🌷
There is no need for words or reasons.
The beauty of the day is enough to break
the last of the ice around my heart.
🌷
I watch the light run down the steep mountains,
chasing the shadows into the hollers,
until everything is radiant and new.
The morning is a wild, strange gift,
and I am lost in the glory of its coming.
Written by Tim Carmichael

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