Sunrise

Sleep came and went for him that night
And as the hours wore on, the world turned
Just out of sight. Just out the window.
With the dull light of a book light illuminating
A graphic novel, not quite reaching
The sheets covering his body.
The dark walls, the piano, the wooden carving;
These only existed in his memory.

Yet, slowly but surely,
A dull light rose from the West,
Bringing the world back to his eyes.
And he rushed out onto the deck.

The flames slashed their way through the atmosphere
'cross mountaintops, into frost-covered valleys,
Touching the morning dew, with no heat, no sound.
Simply a shimmer, a reflection of vitality.

Behind him stood an old friend, her face turned
Towards the horizon. She was there to watch too,
White, glowing, pale, yet sentient as always.
Smiling as she had always been to see him rise at this hour.

He smiled. They smiled.
As she fell behind, never lost in the light
But at the same time fading,
The world turned, and life itself erupted from the horizon.