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# *she wakes.. as if lifted out of a dream; the last threads of night still clinging to her skin like a story she no longer believes but hasn’t fully let go of and there.. through the half-open curtain, through the hush that comes before a new day reveals its full glory.. the first bright water of morning begins to pour over her each morning.. the sun rises anew and calls your name without a shadow each morning.. the lens clears just a little more.. fog thinning, shame loosening, clarity turning like a door opening inward and somewhere in that hush you remember what was always true: that God never turned away, that the self you lost was never truly gone, and that the light you feared was judging you was only waiting to wash you clean you stand one day farther from the fog, one day deeper into your own beauty.. the kind that cannot be taken, the kind the dawn recognizes as its own and when the warmth settles across your shoulders, you rise slowly.. as if the morning has chosen you to begin again and outside.. somewhere gentle, somewhere familiar.. a song you once loved drifts through the waking air: "little darlin’, I feel that ice is slowly melting… here comes the sun… and I say, it’s all right…" and for the first time in so long you feel it.. not just the warmth, but the welcome ..and from the East there rises the quiet shape of an answered prayer.. that at the light’s first piercing of the horizon, she feels what it truly means to begin again* #
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Dec 2, 2025
Dec 2, 2025 at 7:02 AM UTC
Here Comes the Sun
# *she wakes.. as if lifted out of a dream; the last threads of night still clinging to her skin like a story she no longer believes but hasn’t fully let go of and there.. through the half-open curtain, through the hush that comes before a new day reveals its full glory.. the first bright water of morning begins to pour over her each morning.. the sun rises anew and calls your name without a shadow each morning.. the lens clears just a little more.. fog thinning, shame loosening, clarity turning like a door opening inward and somewhere in that hush you remember what was always true: that God never turned away, that the self you lost was never truly gone, and that the light you feared was judging you was only waiting to wash you clean you stand one day farther from the fog, one day deeper into your own beauty.. the kind that cannot be taken, the kind the dawn recognizes as its own and when the warmth settles across your shoulders, you rise slowly.. as if the morning has chosen you to begin again and outside.. somewhere gentle, somewhere familiar.. a song you once loved drifts through the waking air: "little darlin’, I feel that ice is slowly melting… here comes the sun… and I say, it’s all right…" and for the first time in so long you feel it.. not just the warmth, but the welcome ..and from the East there rises the quiet shape of an answered prayer.. that at the light’s first piercing of the horizon, she feels what it truly means to begin again* #
There are mornings when the light arrives as if it has been waiting just beyond the veil.. quiet, patient, familiar in a way the heart remembers before the mind does. A soft unshadowing. A thinning of whatever dimmed the inner glass. Nothing spoken, or demanded.. only the gentle pull of what has always been true. Here comes the sun. And for the first time in a long time.. it’s all right. https://youtu.be/357gZV2Nfsk?si=g72NGvYOsrhvu4jQ xox
Written by
Greatest Poet Ali--...
Dec 2, 2025
Dec 2, 2025 at 7:02 AM UTC
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