The sun rose yesterday morning, stretched out across the dull gray sky and offered hope in iridescent layers.
I stood alone on a quiet bank and watched it arrive like a reliable old friend.
I am always grateful for the sunrise and the invitation it offers — to breathe, to appreciate, to rectify and to begin again.
We are imperfect beings circling around and entirely dependent on a distant sun. But, we are also mostly good; our moral outrage stems from a genuine desire to help, to make the world better, to level the playing field, to offer a hand.
And every morning, the sun shows up and shares its glorious optimism. Each day, we get to begin again.