It rained hard, so hard it seemed the sun would be forever drowned out, that the light would never return, the gray and darkness, menacing and unforgiving. Then as suddenly as it appeared, the transition began.
The first glimpses of hope, of the secretive and hesitant glimpses of light. The cloud where once so dark and threatening, now were merely large and changing shapes in the sky, where once there was a mass of despair, there was now the moment of change, and beyond the edges, beyond the mass, individual shapes began to appear.
And like the first spring flowers to bloom, the light began to reveal itself at the periphery of these shapes. And then, like the beacon of light to the sea weary sailor, guiding his way home, the first colors appeared, and the vibrant colors of the spectrum formed the arch, and the colors, the form, so pleasing to the eyes, to the soul.
The light, where once was secretive, began to exert its power and the clouds, drained of the heavy wet darkness, began to float, in a soft and easy dance across the morning sky. The light, now fully revealed, and its source, the sun, warmed the skin, and all earthly things around me.
The colors, soft billowy white clouds, the rich deep blue sky and the warm living giving yellows of the sun, all presented themselves to me, in a visual display of the creators canvas, and the senses, taste of the lingering and life giving wetness on the tongue, the crisp and clean smell of the dawning day, all brought to me the overwhelming sense of creation and life.
That the day, reborn into itself, was to me, symbolic of everything in life that we must experience, every journey that we take. In the end, the only thing in life that limits our ability to live, are those limits that are self-imposed, our fears, our prejudices. For if we live our life in the way that the creator has given us the opportunity to, we will see that these dark times, the times of insecurity and fear, are but an opportunity to transition to our place in the light.