Some days, the sun rises.
It rises gloriously,
generously, pouring out light like water on the landscape. It sweeps aside the darkness, gently and firmly. It comes as a lovely woman, made wholly of light. She treads lightly, speaks softly, and the grass rises to welcome her.
The animals of the night curl into their burrows, grateful for the daylight, thankful for the rest the dawn has brought. The heat warms the ground around them.
The leaves reflect her light as they flutter, falling slowly, relishing the breeze and the morning, until all is gold -- the sky, the earth, the very air is gold.
In the warmth of this light, there is no fear; it is dissipated, disappeared. There is nothing to fear, for the light has touched every living thing.