The journey of the light

Sluggishly, I clawed my way up, into the clouds, heaving my bulky body into England’s sky. I glided onwards, staining the dawn to a bloody scarlet, vibrant as a painter swishing his most flamboyant stroke. I am like a pot of molten lava, my shimmer lapping over and pouring out into the waking world, lighting the eyes of all who look at me. I spread my gold like an artist, my canvas is the night, that I lighten up into a swirling masterpiece of dawn. As I weave my threads of light into the patch-work sky, they build-up, flowing into the promise of a sunny new day. I unveil the secrets of the night, shining a light on those who struggle, highlighting the beauty, and revealing the truth. I am the light of this world, shining down on all that live in my radiance. And as I rose higher, the dark heavens faded to blue, and the clouds were stained with indigo fire. 

As I looked down at the lush green lands below me, I saw the clusters of lights, resembling towns, slowly closing their night-lights, and opening their eyes. Soon the beautiful array of lights and black melted into blue skies and life. The streets were now bustling with action and morning-mayhem, happy faces smiling up, enjoying the heat I bring. I saw children, running about on grassy parks, flustered parents sprinting after them. I saw windows opening, as people took in their first sight of the new day. I saw cars, nipping in and out, rushing everywhere and nowhere, all in a hurry. The terracotta rooftops glowed in the early morning haze, striking the air with colour similar to lava, contesting even my bright tint. The morning calls of birds and children were fading as dawn became day, screech became hunt and fun became school.

As I waved my sad goodbye to the busy town, I came across a tiny village. Thatched rooftops and sandstone buildings gazed up at me, and the cry of a cockerel split the air and woke the neighborhood. Here too, people were opening their doors, chatting to their neighbors, rushing out, herding children, the usual morning routine. Patches of were green dotted around people’s houses, resembling fields, and I spotted an early tractor making its way slowly along one. I swept away, looking back at the cozy little cottages happily, as they gradually shrank to dots on the horizon.

As I moved on to a graceful mountainside, I saw my own light reflected off sheer, shiny cliffs, and glanced over the grassy mess, dotted with early morning hikers. They trekked far and wide, some reaching the highest peaks, some settling down by peaceful lakes, and others to sunny, flowery meadows. I saw some just beginning their walk, determination etched on their faces, and some at the top of the world, gazing down triumphantly at the distance they had achieved. The countryside was beautiful, the grass shimmering with dew, the air clean and fresh, cold and refreshing as lemonade on a hot summer’s day. I drunk in its crisp scent, before continuing my journey, to the next location. 

Next, I came across a vast, verdant woodland, stretching wider than I thought possible, alive with the squeaks and chirps of life. I breathed in its earthy, natural smell happily, gazing at the maze of green below me, full with movement and excitement. It was like and ocean of plants had erupted from the earth’s surface, and army of animals and insects was following it. I saw tiny squirrels racing each other along tall tree branches. I saw air borne birds, taking flight, cawing mischievously at one another. I saw speedy rabbits darting down their holes as they were spooked by falling twigs. I saw it all. And I smiled.

Next, I saw something new, a gushing river, silver threads and blue silk, merging into a bliss of blue, galloping down the hills like aqua-bound horses. It twisted and turned, following the trail of the land, before finally ending in a magical waterfall. I head the faint drizzles and splashes of water on water, as the waterfall ended in a lake. The glassy surface was rippled by the winds, sending spirals and patterns along it. Saying my farewells to the river, I moved on, finally coming to the sea.  

The water gushed and crashed, it’s waves like fighters, battling for position on the sand, crashing down on the land, only to be drawn back by the tides, to start a fresh life. They shimmered in my fading light, still pushing and pulling, forwards and backwards, like a never ending machine. The waves flowed and broke and frothed and sucked, and flowed again. It was a natural cycle they had to fulfill. I knew that it was time to go. 

Reluctantly, I carried on my journey, and said goodbye to England. I scarpered away, leaving a trail of ultra-violet clouds, in my wake. The colours of day were evaporating like water left out on a beach, and the darkness enveloped the lands. Soon, the sky had lost all colour, and my last fading light disappeared beyond the hills. I smiled at my friend, the moon, as he settled into the skies, to wish everyone a good night. 

And so, I moved on. To other countries, giving other lights. Sparking the hope in so many eyes. But everywhere I go is special. Every person I see is important. Every blade of grass, every rock has a story to tell. Every table has a tale of a tree and an axe. Every city has a tale of design and fail, leading to success. Every building site has an idea, an inspiration, slowly becoming reality. Every ant, a tale of teamwork and family. Every animal, of evolution.  

I am the celestial fireball of the world, the golden globe, the one and the only morning star that watches over Earth. I light the way and banish the darkness. I am the saffron torch, a citrus yellow flame, an amber candle, never to be quenched. I colour the sky in all manner of hues, berry-wine, cherry-crimson, arctic-denim, minty-aqua, mossy-olive, all of them. I show the light when the dark is choking. I will always come. Remember that. When your darkest hour comes. Remember. That the sun will always rise on a new day.