Before Sunrise: A Sage’s Reflection

Before Sunrise: A Sage’s Reflection

Before the sun rises, the world holds its breath. There is a stillness in these moments that feels ancient. A moment older than our worries, older than our dreams. It is here, in the hush before dawn, that we are most able to listen to what the earth is trying to tell us.

Sit with me for a moment. Let the early songs of the birds reach your ears. Hear how one voice begins the melody, soon joined by another, and another, until the air is full of music. This is how nature greets the day, not with haste, but with harmony.

I turn off my lamp. Its brightness felt like an interruption in this sacred space, as though I had been speaking too loudly in a quiet temple. In the gentler light, the world comes forward. The shadows soften, details emerge, and the quiet beauty that was hidden becomes visible.

The music from my radio swells, but it is not competing. It is blending with the birdcalls, the whisper of leaves, and the faint hum of the waking earth. Streetlamps fade into irrelevance as the eastern sky begins to pale. The crow’s call cuts through the stillness, sharp and purposeful, as if to remind us that time is moving, that morning is inevitable.

Clouds wander slowly across the sky, hinting at rain. I think of rain as the earth’s way of cleansing its spirit, just as we must learn to release what no longer serves us. Imagine, for a moment, that every drop is washing away the dust from your own heart, leaving space for love and gentleness to grow.

We wait together for the light. I search for the “God Beams”; those golden fingers of sunlight that reach down from the heavens, touching everything with quiet grace. They are a rare blessing, but even their absence reminds me to be grateful for the hope of them.

The clouds take on a pink blush, as though the sky itself is shy in the presence of the approaching sun. The breeze stirs, pauses, and stirs again. It feels as if the earth is inhaling slowly, preparing to exhale the day into being.

And then without fanfare, the sun arrives. Hidden by clouds, yet undeniable, it begins to turn the world gold. Streetlights vanish, their service complete. The leaves sway, catching light on their edges. Morning has come.

Remember this: each sunrise is an unearned gift. You did nothing to make it happen, yet here it is, offered freely, without condition. The question is not whether it will come, but whether you will pause long enough to notice it.

So, I ask you, as a friend,

What beauty will you make room for today?