Until The Sun Runs Out Of Days
The golden rays of Sun in the morning rise, peaking at my soul, drawing dawn over the horizon like a blanketed softness on a vast surface. In that quiet unfolding, there is no urgency, only a promise: that beginnings ask not permission, they just simply happen. Each morning carries a whisper of eternity, as if the sky itself believes it will never run out of chances to begin again.
Blessed in that repetition, the Sun does not tire of rising. Though it has done so for ages beyond comprehension, it stretches its light over everything that reaches its presence; across oceans and rooftops, over restless cities and sleeping fields. Touching everything without asking what deserves warmth and what does not, it lights their paths.
And yet, even this faithful witness, the Sun, tireless in its giving, moves within a measure. Its days are counted. And its fire is sustained by a breath that will one day be removed. The heavens themselves, vast as they seem, are not immune to endings. The morning that feels eternal is, in Truth, held together by time.
But beyond the arc of burning stars, and the slow dimming of galaxies, there is a Presence. Not bound to fuel or fading light is YAHWEH’S Presence. And time is in HIS Command.
For when the last dawn has stretched its final gold across the horizon, and the sky no longer remembers how to brighten, there remains The ONE Who does not rise because HE never sets. YAHWEH does not begin again each morning, for HE was never absent in the night.
Where the Sun offers warmth without question, YAHWEH offers being itself. Never ceasing, and unborrowed; HE Is unspent.
And if the skies were to close their eyes forever, if time itself exhaled its final breath, still there would be no true darkness for those held within HIS Presence. Because HE Is not subject to its leaving.
So every sunrise is more than a cycle. But, a quiet echo, a sign of something far greater than the Star that carries it. A reminder that while creation moves in beginnings and endings, YAHWEH, THE ONE Who Spoke it into motion, remains forever.
And in that knowing, the morning changes.
It is no longer just the Sun that rises. The reflection of a Presence before which even the Sun’s light must answer to, rises too. A Presence that endures until the Sun runs out of days, and beyond.
For when the Sun has spent its final flame, and the sky forgets how to begin again, YAHWEH will remain; unchanged. HE Is The ONE to Whom all things are subject, and in Whom no day has ever run out; unending.
