Picture a grand vision of the ocean, like the darkest jadeite, reverently waiting for the baptism of the sun. Waves billow over the surface, eulogizing for the coming of a new day. Birds are humming eagerly, looking forward for the most solemn moment. Glance back at the grey mountains, the woods appeared in folds, like the drapery of the hills, stately with the deepest awe. Everything is waiting, waiting for the coming of something sacred, so sacred as the father of the material world. Never is he hasty, he never arrived before time, leaving the world waiting anxiously for his arrival.
Gradually and peacefully, the sun appeared from the farthest east of the skyline, flaring up the horizon as he lit up the clouds, painting part of the sky with red pigments. The world slowly resuscitated as the sun gently caress on everything he seem, like the most beneficent father. The ocean is now glowing in the brightest blue color, shining like a precious emerald. Dew fogs has crept into hollow places and the gladsome light leaped over hills and valleys, casting red, blue, green and purple on different trees and flowers.
Birds are chirping with elatedness, streams are meandering vividly with their songs of delight, clouds are drifting about with their dance of blessing. The whole world is feasting at concert, performing a symphony for the benediction of the richness in nature.
The celebration for a new day is yet to come.
