And now for the sunrise itself, the beginning of all things.
A small band of clouds was huddled around impending-dawn. As dawn approached, a small sliver of skyline burst out at the horizon as orange fire seeks escape from its confines. The tops of the clouds shone golden and then increased to a vividness of gold that my language does not account for.
The sun broke above the clouds, particles and waves bouncing across the distance, humbling my senses. “The Son of Man will come on the clouds with Glory.” The clouds, now hovering below the sun, began to break up as hard, eternal shafts of light shot angular down upon distant flood plains. “Where were you when I laid the foundations of earth… when all the sons and daughters of God sang for joy?” Broadening its reach, the sun drew upwards, its route already determined; its effect, though, was unpredictable and immeasurable. All objects brave enough to be three-dimensional in this flat land were given vast-shadows that trailed behind them. The whiteness of the breaking waves shone immensely. Footprints became darker and darker as the shadows had nowhere to go but down. As the light increased, so too did certain pockets of darkness. But one had to search for the darkness, had to actively reject the light and its imbuiance of transcendence into all things in order to find darkness.
And still the sun climbed.
The clouds, now fragmented and broken by joy, looked upwards as the light processed. I was a giant upon the earth in those moments, my shadow stretching absurdly far behind me. As long as I was staring towards at the sun, my projected evil did not overwhelm me. The lighthouse (which, at night, worked visions of insanity with its light flashing across the eyes every seven seconds) now stood stolidy to the north.
Melancholy sank in again. Was it over so quickly? Was life itself over that quickly? Yes, and now the sun marched on along another gorgeous, hard day.