Sun worship.

It is a wild sunrise after a rough night.
The sea is already awake and grumbling,
hurling itself at the beach, bent on having the last word.
The horizon is torn apart by rampant waves.
Spume flies up, lit by the fire of the first rays of light.
Bruised storm clouds drag themselves across the sky,
battered into shades of grey, blue, black and gold-
a tattered, ragbag army limping home.

Life is hiding. Few things are on the move.
Tiny waders dip and scuttle along the waters edge,
holding their nerve, keeping on, keeping on,
and a single crow, a fearless adventurer,
amuses himself after easy pickings along the shoreline
by swooping to taunt a passing dog and make him run.
I breathe in the power of the sunrise, letting it calm my fears,
and drink in the rhythm of the waves.

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