Sometimes it gets me, the fragile start of a new day. Night's last remnant of tattered darkness is pulled away by the delirious, bold, colors of morning. And I open my eyes and see it. Naked, ancient and yet brand new. The sunrise. Nothing more unknown than the start of a new day. Nothing more consistent than the turning of the globe. And I am Magellan, on the prow of a great ship, leaning hard into the winds of uncharted waters. And I am the greatest of poets because today is the book in which I will write my own story. And I am within the wilds of life itself; a welcome wanderer, a lover, a child.

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