I sat in the dining room of my home, watching the sun rise and letting it's warmth pour over me through the window.
I listened to Edith Piaf sing beautiful love songs to me as I drank my coffee black and smoked too many harsh cigarettes waiting for words to come to me.
I sat for a while watching the shy sun peek over the towering trees in the horizon, letting it inspire me and fill me with irrevocable and overwhelming hope for the day.
I had not slept for 24 hours, yet my bright eyes were wide with pure adoration for the sun and it's astounding strength to pull itself out of it's deep slumber each morning.
It was then I realized humans beings themselves are much like the sun. Regardless of the day before and it's happenings, we rise each day unknowing of what is to become of the next 24 hours.
There are mornings that it is hard peel my duvet off of my cold, slender, legs; and there are mornings I can hardly wait for the sun to rise to begin my day.
There, too, are days I don't rise from my wrinkled sheets until the sun has set itself into the highest point of the sky, announcing that it is midday.
There are even days I can't bring myself to crawl away from my pillows until the sun is setting.
But today is not one of those days. For today I have hope of what has yet to come.