I saw the most beautiful sunrise of my life today.
The top of the sky was deep purple inlaid with grey clouds tipped in fiberglass insulation pink. The purple stepped down into electric lavender, neon rose, a throbbing saffron and then pure shining gold. The lower sky gilded the clouds there- the bumpy ones, the wispy ones, the long bars of pent up rain, and the fading stains of yesterday's downpour.
I reached for my phone.
What was rich in my eyes, was poor on the screen. A thousand different brilliant colors faded into a simple dichotomy: blue and yellow. The textures of horizon, as complex and sensual as reading Neruda in Braille, were flattened, absent.
Another pic. Another. Nothing.
Maybe a filter? X-Pro II, Earlybird. No.
You can't capture what is freely given. Every day the sun comes again to each of us, freshly dressed in colors we will never see again. The sun has no wardrobe, it leaves its gown stretched over the dresser of dusk before it vanishes between raven-winged sheets.
Live your memory, the sun says. Come back tomorrow and I will give you something new. The phone maybe bright, but it illuminates nothing - the night is always brighter. Nothing lasts, so why spend all your energy holding what turns to dust in your palms? What you have held, try to feel. What you have looked at, try to see. Your being is your memory. The truth of your past lives (verb) in how you experience the present. Your ancestors stir in the way you dance. Stop grasping for what your wear in your veins.
In honor of everyone starting school today, this will be my lesson. I may not learn well, but I will try. And God willing, I will be back in class tomorrow, to enjoy all that is given, all that will come again without ever returning.