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It was the dawn and morning rolled in like sheets of darks glass slowly revealing the morning to come
The clouds billowed as if someone pulled them out too fast and they folded over each other creating shadows
Beneath his feet he could see the Earth and pondered his existence between the birth of a new day and the end of another long night.
The nights are long because they are spent contemplating but not really doing. The most exciting part of the day was the wonder of what was to come but not really doing.
In those morning hours, the pondering was on the magnificience of doing but not really doing.
It was a truly vicious cycle.
