Do you still see the sunrise?

There is some small pleasure in the passage of time. Each day is timed to celestial clockwork; revolutions and rotations coexisting in a harmony of circular chords. Like sheet music the rising sun flares into reality; pouring out its heart to the blue world I call home. Perhaps it is an obvious projection of my biases to describe the world as such, but that is of no matter. Everyone lives and breathes the same sunlight, the same dew dropped roses and chrysanthemum sky as I do. There is a mutual understanding that comes with such experiences; a sense of knowing that cannot be duplicated or bought before its time. That relationship with hourglasses and happiness is a complicated and challenging thing. Flighty and fabled by all those who attempt to label or confine; camaraderie is a bond undefined.

Life and love are dance partners dressed in professional attire. They walk among us as attendants carrying drinks and appetizers, often unnoticed and overlooked by those deemed the "guests." We, however, stumble around in the Master's hall. Glorified by our reception to such a party we make manifest the contrast between red and yellow. These walls of light bare witness to our crimson flesh as we entertain ourselves with gaudy amusements and commercialized credence. Vainly wasting all that has been given; the crowds are oblivious to the brilliant display before them. Two lonely jewels embattle one another in their midst with passion and zeal. Their menial clothing are mere ruses for the auroras of spirit beneath. It is only in there most inspiring moments that a few privileged guest stop to stare at the mastery of their hosts.

And standing there I was bound to see my lords' passionate embrace. Enchanting and sublime; the expression shared between their eyes pulled close. Volumes could be wasted in the pursuit of understanding such perfection. The melody of spirit shared in the culmination of a single kiss is the governing dynamic for existence. In other words, by the mysterious and indescribable execution of such a rare event, we can divine the reason for living.

Frozen in place by all that was witnessed, I stood alone among the crowds. Honored and overcome, I watched as they moved away from each other in rhythmic succession. How many times had such wonders gone without applause, without marvel? How many had been born of a fleshy world and suddenly dreamed of something more?