And I heard a name, and it was called "Lovely"

That word is enchanting. Valuable. Worth striving for. It is, in fact, safe to say that I am obsessed with the term - with the very idea of it.
Lovely.
It holds inside it's name everything that I could possibly want to achieve.
To be Loving. To inspire Love. To be Lovable.

I'm sitting on my futon, in my long, fluffy winter coat
with it zipped all the way up to my chin.
Not because I'm cold, but because it feels like a hug.
It has fur around the edge of the hood,
and it was white until I rolled around with the puppy outside.

And now it's soiled.
And Lovely turns that way as well.
When the Pure and Clean and Good turn into brown and mud.
When They hold up a mirror and point out your Unlovely.
Telling of all the reasons you lost everything lovable
and everything Bright.
And the idea of Lovely is as beautiful as a once-white coat.

But have you ever watched a series of sunrises?
And have any of them been anything less than miraculous?
A clean slate. A new start. A fresh Hope.
And that day has the potential to be wonderful and radical.
With many mudpuddles waiting next to the curbs, ready to trip you up.
But the morning is glowing.

I've never seen a Sunrise that has been anything less than Lovely.