I rise.

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I rise.
Again. And again.
Not as the morning bird
whose song springs
to sudden glorious life
at the dawning of the light,
but as the sun
who touches the horizon
with tender fingertips
before reaching open arms
across the sky
to embrace another day
to weather the storms
to stand tall and breathe fire
and then to descend into rest
until it’s time to rise again.
And again
I rise.

~ L.R. Knost

 

 

 

 

 

~ Image by Antonio Amati
Text & image source: The Garden Of Pensiveness https://web.facebook.com/The-Garden-Of-Pensiveness-367268523352486/

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