Easter Sunday

You are awake before the sun has cracked
the not yet simmering surface of San Francisco,
and it feels good.
It is not as cold as it looks,
and it feels good.
On the walk up to the cross
the smell of trees and
flowers in the morning
punctures through the fog.
You look up to see a hawk floating.
It is not soaring, or diving, just hovering.
Have you ever seen a real-life, God-formed Beacon?
Follow the breathing guide, and see the city.
Look below at the city that squeezes your insides
with a gentle, yet unrelenting, grip.
Reach the top, see the cross, and join the people.
You have never seen so many people so early in the morning.
Families and dogs, musicians and children.
You are thankful.
You long for peace, and love, and connection,
and in this sunrise community, you have found it.