Dear dawn, you are immensely underrated, kind of like Hawkeye in the Avengers.
You see, the world hates you. 5AM means too early, and that beautifully dark moment between midnight and 6AM is what we need to recuperate from the day’s chaos. Unfortunately, you exist within it.
I’ve got to be honest, I almost never wake up earlier than 6. It’s something I just don’t do unless I have a flight to catch. But you, sweet 5AM, possess so much beauty that I regret ever missing you.
A few days ago I had to wake up before the crack of dawn for work. I was tired and groggy. I looked at the hour hand on my clock and groaned. Too early.
Then I walked out and—my goodness, you halted me in my tracks. The sun was shy of coming out, but you had lit up the sky with navy. The air was fresh with the smell of dew. The leaves were moist from last night’s rain and the streets were foggy with mist. There was no one around; no birds to chirp and no cars to cut the silence.
It’s a shame how quickly the sun overpowers you. It gives you only minutes to show yourself before it rises towards the open sky like a warm alarm. But moments before, you are stunning. You look the way love feels. You are modest with your extravagance, but I see you, and I’ve seen you plenty of times before.
I just never appreciated you for what you are.
People wait for sunsets. They await for the reds, oranges, and yellows, but never do they linger for when you wipe out the pitch-black sky with your colors. You can strike with the very same reds, but you will always be in the shadow of your sister, 12 hours apart.
You are too early but you are also too beautiful, too welcoming, too charming.
You are 5AM, and you remind me what it feels like to love the world.