A different type of break of day

Did you ever see a sunrise born within thunder and rain?

I did today.

I saw, as day broke through the night.

Looking like a battle, the darkness didn’t want to seem to pass for the light to come, but at some point, nonetheless it did.

Slowly, softly.

Clouds being a medium of this battles painting, they shifted their hue in the flowing motion of time. Where everything was black before, moments later some silhouettes of black trees began to stand out from a dark grey sky.

There were no colors.

Until there were, when grey became a whole new concept of color.

No glorious rise of the sun, where people would stand and watch.

No red and yellow fire reaching up to the horizon.

No autumn leave orange or campfire red.

No one saw the sun, as it touched higher skies.

But still, I felt it.

Sometimes rising doesn’t mean to shine brightly.

It is a shadow-play of slowly washing out the darkness.

It is the rising of light, in a space where no one can see it.

People lust for stark contrasts, whitest lights, sunsets painting the bloodiest red on skies.

However, that’s not the shape of my heart.

Some humans might shine in brightest colors outwards, mirroring a most vibrant sunrise.

But I?

I am a different break of day.

A sunrise only seen on days of thunder and rain.