As I’m dealing with a number of setbacks regarding internet service, I’m leaving a brief piece written a number of years ago … prompted by someone’s suggestion I write about “a sunset.”
She pushes off from the towering cliff, setting her wings to glide smoothly to the rocky shore below. Anticipation is hers at this time of day … each and every day … for the heat of her land overwhelms at times, leading many to abandon the open sky for the coolness of shadowed canyon walls nearby. But for this lady of the sky, the spacious evening reaches unfold into spectacular. The long day of foraging and fishing is set aside, a distant memory … as she greets the usher of the night, the sunset.
Without the full blaze it possessed in mid-day, the sun still appears a huge golden ball. Set now above the horizon, it is mirrored in the silvery blue ocean until the waves turn and carry it broken, dissolving into the rocks and sand of the shore. As she ascends for full view she is mesmerized … though she has witnessed this scene a thousand times before. Lovers embrace and walk the crooked shoreline, casting their glances to the horizon, their hearts in union … their lives at peace. This wonder she has seen accomplished many times by this matchmaker, the sunset.
Together each evening they dance … a swirling but peaceful waltz that seems to last an eternity. She soars into his strong blue arms and rests her head against his chest of clouds. He spins her with the wind and as time progresses he often sheds a crimson smile. He continues to fade though, holding her hand until the last possible moment … kissing her sweetly as he leans to touch the earth. Midnight blue overtakes him, but in those last quiet turns of the dance, she is at peace, as she holds his last golden finger on the horizon. He is gone for the moment … but he lives within her, yet to be born on a new day. She soars one final time to the heights, to the refuge of the cliff … to consider her lover, the sunset.