Giddy, I wake up,
And reach for the curtains.
I tear them asunder,
To see the sky painted a dull yellow-blue.
“It’s almost here!” I whisper to myself,
And tear my way out of bed,
Out of my room,
A whirlwind of anticipation.
I reach the giant oak doorway,
Click the latch,
And step outside.
The sky is painted by the angels,
With more acute detail than each grain of sand
In the desert,
With more color than the parrots of the jungle,
And with more majesty than a queen on her throne.
But what I was excited for,
Wasn’t this glorious picture,
It’s what lies within.
The sunshine is what I want.
So I close my eyes,
Spread my arms like wings,
Ready to embrace each ray like a soldier returning home.
You see,
If the sunrise is the beautiful flowers in a vase,
The sunshine is the water.
It keeps them alive.
It keeps me alive.
And when I go to sleep,
I can’t wait for the sunshine!