Every day the sunrises, without fail. No matter what kind of joy or pain the day before was clothed in, a new one awakes with a fresh slate. With streams of brillance bursting forth, even particles of dust sparkle and the contrast of light and dark makes ordinary shapes like the triangles of trees cast streams of light and shadows of dark in all directions. The light defines the dark, not the other way around.
If it weren't for the warm orb of light, the intricate weave and tedious detail of a spider's web might go unnoticed. When light shines behind dark, it highlights the most exquisite details.
As if one master piece isn't enough . . . each unique thumbprint is like God winking at us. I'm pretty sure spiders don't have thumbs and thus no thumbprints, but the CREATOR who made them does, and I am sure I sensed Him smiling at me on the sidewalk when I stopped to notice the craftmanship of these intricate designs. Construction workers on a rooftop apartment across the street saw me see these and stop to document them. I wonder if they noticed the camoflaged yet highlighted art gallery hidden in plain sight. Sometimes when we pause, it prompts others to not miss the good stuff. Oh hurry, how you rush me when I'm not surrendered to breathly in life deeply. Oh light, how you direct my gaze to heavenly places.
The same scene from a different angle. Redundant, I think not. How fascinating the glow, and how soft the barbs that anchor the web. Strength can be delicate. Wisps of webs hang on, maybe the start of something new or traces of ships abandoned. Swoon worthy.
Dear sunflare, with your sparkling hexagon of shimmery light, thank you for making me pause to see what could have easily been missed. Dear Father of Light, the giver of every good and perfect gift, thank you for today. Your creation gives you props for your AWESOMENESS. Thank you for the gift of pause, for each new day with its freshly lit dawn. Please help me to be still and not miss you.