Sunday, December 8, 2013

The Diffused Sun

"Why are all reflections lovelier than what we call the reality?--not so grand or so strong, it may be, but always lovelier? ...Even the memories of past pain are beautiful, and past delights...The moon is the lovelier memory of the down-gone sun..." ~George MacDonald

The Diffused Sun

The evening sun
Sets.  Ember-like in the horizon 
Gathering memories of the day-gone-by:
Those loved, conversations spoken, tasks fulfilled.
Leaves reds purples yellows streaked across the sky
Finally, a whisper and a faint breath, the light
Gives way to deep blue and then, star speckled darkness.

The morning sun
Rises.  Everything under its spell draped in a
Deep glow of orange, and on to a palette of soft yellows
Energy steeping in a cup of wake-me-up-it’s-time-to-face-the

The sun after a storm
Paints.  Glorious, masterful strokes
Casting beams here and there
In varying shades of intensity: amalgamated light and shadow
Light and clouds play together, mellow, beautiful, quiet.

The sun in a raindrop
Reveals.  Broken light, a hidden spectrum in one single ray
A surprising, spectacular array of color.

The sun in a forest
Filters.  Timeless in dense leaves, branches
A delicate weaving through mist and dew,
Broken and bejeweled:
A still life of perfection.

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