The Joyful Dawn
There is no greater effect than the one inspired by its splendor.
I could bask in it for hours, simply fixated on its tender purple glow,
humbled by its mystique and delicate charms.
Never have I considered myself religious,
but when I look its way --- I know faith.
Faith in the unknown and unspoken,
by its yawning presence and its soft, gentle aura of calm.
It inspires contradiction.
Before it I feel both humbled and proud,
Both weak as a tepid drip from its darkened sky,
and strong as those mountains that seem to reach for its brilliance.
Under it, I abandon logic.
It invokes emotion like I have never before experienced.
In its darkest times, I feel small in its shroud,
hopelessly writhing in its seeming indifference.
I resent it at the time, and sling scorn in its wake.
But I break these spells, and repent.
I recall and look upon those simple things which first allured me to its magnificence:
Her soft beauty,
Her majesty,
Her soul.
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