SUNRISE AND MOUNTAINT TOPS

Look to the east and watch the euphoric splendor,
Of the brilliant sunrise, loud and tender.
Feel the morning breeze arouse your soul.
Giving the worn soul a sense of control.
Vibrant oranges stir an impression of hope.
The great sense of adventure provoked.
Do you remember those nostalgic sunrises?
The ones that dawn after the devil’s devices. 
Abounding in rich colors after shrouded in black.
When weight is lifted far from the weary back.
Its taste is sweeter than honey from a honeycomb.
Strong enough to let the dreamer roam. 
When passed on to soft blue and colors fade.
One finds delight in the cool touch from the glade of jade. 
With sweet fragrances of elegant flowers. 
And the splendor of the golden hours.
One might think they have arrived at heaven’s gate.
But when the sun falls they strive to leave its fate.
In search for wonder they climb the tallest mountain.
Frustration displayed with sweat like a fountain.
Exhilarating it might be, until you can’t stay.
One may wish to stand, watch and survey.
But life keeps moving, it’s never the same.
If one stands still they may be caught by shame. 
Listen carefully dear traveler of the west.
Chasing joy and delight does not provide rest.
But leaves one dissatisfied when the moment passes.
It dims the eyes when shadows are forecasted.
Life is not a checklist of happiness.
Nor measured by hours of happiest bliss.
It is in the fullness of every moment of time.
Choosing to live in and out of seasons of rhyme.
It is good to walk the flowers in the valley.
Even if you’re just short of your happiness tally.
It makes those sunrises that much brighter.
It makes your heavy heart that much lighter.
It makes sweating and striving that much rewarding. 
After climbing tragedy, it brings forth the joy of exploring.
Sunrises and mountaintops are a special gift.
But do not let the reward of tragedy be dismissed.
For a sea of sorrows can glisten too.
Refining the sharpest of edges to something new.
Sandy dunes are lonely and dry,
Making water precious while in great supply.
The picture of the sunrise read once before,
Is the image of a heart broken then restored.
Sorrow should not be avoided.
Nor should beauty be exploited.
They should be taken in as they come.
Just like the rising and the setting of the sun.

r.d. jESS