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And the sun sets.
Friday, January 6th, 2006 by admiralOn the barren horizon, the sun perished in a brilliant blast of orange and red hues. Colors without names or numbering spread out as a burial shroud for the light of day. The sky mourned, donning black to weep for its loss. We saw the miracle because we thought to look where no others would take the time. Such beauty was ours alone because we looked away from the artificial world’s profane decorations to see the truth around us.
To look where no other dares glance is to see what no other sees. Yet the beauty of the moment was not in the death of one day, nearing winter. The greater beauty was in the promise both of a new day and a new year yet unborn. Unmatched beauty, well beyond the profane decoration of the artificial world, was our alone. It was a beauty beyond the present, built upon faith and resting in the hope of the sun’s resurrection.
The setting of the sun over countless lifetimes, even as the year grows old and each day gets colder and darker, had not been an end to time.
