Contemplation of a Carolina Sunrise

Suspended in the all encompassing darkness
on a shoreline separating ocean and land
in between the depths of night and edge of day,
the only reference point is the pulse of the lighthouse
and the only sound, the whisper of the sea.
I could be anywhere, or nowhere,
a small, insignificant figure standing here
amid the vastness of space and time.

A flush of light in the sky above the horizon
scattered across the countless grains of sand
along the expanse of this ancient beach
marks the movement of that space and passing of that time.
The indistinct night lifts and a distant cloud
catches the first hint of the rising sun
and glows out of the midnight blue,
a golden spectacle unfolding and spreading
under the last glimmer of the constellations
and that last star, the morning star,
like a timeless promise of hope and life,
the supernatural force of love
that lights the inexplicable mysteries of this world.

The cloud brightens, the sea sparkles,
the sand glitters in a thousand fragments
and this light comes to life
and sweeps across oceans and continents,
shifting the ground under our feet,
undermining what feels so permanent
and irreplaceable, casting doubt
on our ambitions and our sense of purpose
in this unfathomable, immense universe.
And yet, as the first point of light
breaks over this shimmering Atlantic,
we find ourselves the living witness
to this morning extravagance.
It's as if it came for no other reason.

Where is there a monument
worthy of this brilliantly painted scene?
Why is this sun rising like this,
catching the spirit up with the spirited gulls?

I see in a young couple walking the beach
hand in hand, sharing a kiss and an embrace,
hopeful in the joy of the morning,
and the breathing of the waves on the morning shore;
the figures of compassion and love,
a portrait of the image of God
that separates us from everything else in creation,
lifting us above this sea, this sand, that light.