The Rising

Morning. Snow overnight, just a skiff. Angel feathers. Sparkle-snow.

From a window, I see pink starting in the sky.

Speed it up, girl. Don't miss the sunrise.

Driving, I am driving. Clouds breaking. I am watching the sky.

Tree line: gold down below, but rising, rising.

First peek of sun. Fire and flame against the cold.

Rising, rising.

This is what the roosters crow about. This moment. Here. Now.

Bathed in glory, all in glory. Orange sun. Pink light.

Purple tree shadows on the snow.

And the sun.

And me.

Rising.

The soundtrack: Bruce Springsteen, with The Rising.