Dawn Of A New Day

You're probably going to want to turn off the music from playlist

The dark, navy blue sky feels oily as you run your fingers through its misty substance. The mountains you're on are rough and jagged like your grandmother's dentures, but the solidity of them gives you the sense that nothing can ever bring you down. The world hasn't even begun to wake up from its deep and nauseated sleep yet, but you're up.

Why are you up?

Is it because you've been up all night at your Aunt Phanny's New Years Eve party? Is it because you couldn't go back to bed after getting up and chugging that creamy white milk? Or maybe it's because you just wanted to witness the spectacular sight that you're about to gaze upon with those large, glossy eyes. Maybe that's why you have been up for the past hour and a half.

Yesterday night you were deeply troubled. Scared. Saddened. All of the above. What caused this? You know what it was. It was the phobia of never being able to see the next sunrise. Never being able to take in the next fresh, frosty breath of oxygen you've so been so fortunate to have been given each day. But why did the fear of death frighten you especially that night?

The truth is, you're secretly worried about it each day of your life. Not the actual process you go through to die. No. Just the fact that you believe that if you don't embrace your life while you have it now, you may never get a second chance.

You know it's coming. The moment you've been anticipating for two hours now, as you trudge along up the winding canyon trails to the top of the peak. Better get a good view. You look around and see a bench on the trail. The bench is old, paint long since peeled. It's a wooden bench. Erected there long ago by tired, grumpy park rangers. There's moss growing to one side of the bench, and a few small cracks here and there, but right now it looks beautiful. You sit down and position yourself in such a way that the two pine trees in front of you make a V-shape, and right in between those two trees, you see it. The sunrise. The dawn of a new day. It's beautiful, a bright pink mixed with golden yellow, dulled slightly by thin mountain mist that's still lingering in the air. You take in a deep breath and slowly exhale.

But why aren't you satisfied?

It confuses you. The sunrise was beautiful. The scenery was priceless, yet it didn't match up to what you wanted. You slowly hike back down the trail to where you parked your old 1986 Ford. As you hike back down, you keep trying to embrace all of this. It's beautiful! Why can't you enjoy it as you'd like? It's just not what you wanted for some reason.

About a half a year later, and with many more similar disappointments such as the first, there comes a knock at your door at about 6:00 or 7:00 P.M. You can't remember. You open the door and see two young looking boys in white shirts and ties with name tags. You're slightly curious, although you're pretty sure they're solicitors. They greet you and introduce themselves as missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Whew. Long name. They quickly explain about a strange looking book they're both holding, The Book of Mormon. You're curiosity is growing, and so you invite them in. The young boys look overjoyed.

Six months later, you love these young boys. You love everybody. You love that mysterious book they showed you, and most of all, you love your life, because now you know that you don't have to be afraid anymore. Because these young missionaries taught you of a wonderful fact; that there is life after death. When they had told you this, you had immediately embraced the fact and wanted to be baptized into their church immediately. And now, two months after your conversion and baptism, you make the same hike you did nearly a year ago. Except this time, you're not troubled. You're not scared, and most of all, you're not afraid. Because you know that just like sun rising in front of you between the two pines, you will rise again. Just as your Savior Jesus Christ did so that you could live again. You take in a deep breath, and slowly exhale. Completely void of all depression, because the best thing you've ever experienced came your way, that fateful day six months ago.

The Dawn of a new Day

Dawn Of A New Day by Tikah