Moments of Clarity

There is a time of the day, it is early, when the light from the sun moves like grey water slipping by under the ice of a frozen stream. Amber light begins to sneak out growing cracks, lifting into the air, causing you to realize that the only thing you have any peace with in this world is with God and it is a comforting and terrifying idea all at once. The inky night knows that it is being erased, washed away by light the color of fruit, and I realize that I am thirsty as I look at it all and realize that in this moment I am not tired. I will be soon, once the day is no longer being born, once I've had that glass of juice, my body will remember that I am tired. Where are you? I'm here, watching the morning. How do you feel? I am at peace, and it scares me. Then you are not at peace, are you? Drink this sky, and try to feel stress. It is impossible. I feel God here in this moment. My knees are shaking. I understand you. I get you. Others say I don't but I do. Swim in this sunrise, and feel joy. Dip your fingers in these colors and wash the contented feeling out of your fingers. You can't and you don't want to. This is the morning. You get me. This is the morning and the light is decided it will stay. This moment will change, but my fingers will stay stained with color, and I'll never get the smell of peace out of my clothes. Not that I would want to.