The sun rises in a glorious spectrum of color and sanguinity analogous to the birth of a child. There is hope in this moment that this rebirth will bring with it new possibilities and understanding. In our youth the air is cool and light and we have all of time to decide how our day will be spent. Without our permission these moments slip from us breath by breath. Before we know it the mid day heat beats arduously upon our back and little has been done with our time. Often we look to the clock as though an arbitrary time will bring us amelioration. Yet as quickly as it came the sun descends and our life is consumed by the twilight. The incalescent nature of the sun which was once cursed are looked upon with contempt. Now there is no more time for all of the things we said we would do. Our most finite commodity when squandered becomes our greatest regret.
We have but a day.
We have but a day.
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