You can’t control the sunrise
but rather sit quietly
and wait

For it to emerge
some days orange
and glowing

Some days hidden
from our eyes
but present in our heart

The fog has a plan
of her own
the clouds a purpose too

Even when its hidden
does the sun not follow
its path?

When your own path
disappears, what can
the sun teach you?

You can’t control the sunrise
so what is there to do?
Wait. Wait. For it to emerge.

Who are you to say
whether
it was beautiful

An original poem by Barrett Brooks
Written October 13, 2025
Location: Hound Dog Hill at Bend of Ivy Lodge, Marshall, NC

© 2025
…but you may share this work without alteration in small group settings
… for other print or compilation inquiries, please reach out directly