Early Morning Revelations
Only the seagulls foraging for their breakfasts over the river break the stillness of the morning. It is that perfect time of day when, for a few precious moments, the water and sky are a single shade of blue disturbed only by the jarring, industrial shoreline.

Dusky skiffs of pink, purple and gray clouds move silently in the east, the only flaw in an otherwise perfectly clear azure sky. They constantly morph in the light breeze, starting out as massive bunnies, then marshmallow peeps, finally winding up as frenetic brush strokes.

Ironically, the water grounds me. The reassuring muffled lapping of the waves along the pier calms me, erasing the dangerous, disturbing thoughts that usually plague my mind. Instead, they provide my consciousness (mercifully) with a pristine canvas, if only for a short while. It�s the one time I can truthfully say I�m comfortable with the silence and with my own company.

It�s also during these rare times that I am able to gather the strength I need to look ahead, to imagine where I�ll be and what I will have accomplished in five or ten years. I tentatively paint my clean, white canvas with contentment and success, security and love. I don�t make plans so much as immerse myself in those things of which my dreams are made, allowing for a moment the possibility that I might someday receive everything I wish for.

In the harsh light of day I can see the danger in this line of thinking. In the blink of an eye, the sun appears, beating down on the dusty pavement, the gulls discover a discarded french fry container on which to feast and the river reveals its true muddy brown hue. Joggers and dog walkers invade my personal oasis, shattering the quiet and once again reminding me with a tumultuous thud that everything both positive and negative is, in one way or another, fleeting.

I must continue the struggle to find and hold dear the power of the dawn in myself, if only for the sake of my sanity.

Posted at 6:56 p.m.