Chasing After Sunsets
Driving through sun soaked countryside,
meandering, journeying, questing,
we think it will never end.
Hill after rolling hill,
cows and sheep, horses and dogs,
we are enthralled by each new sight.
Little churches dot the hills,
their steeples raised in praise to God,
our hearts and voices lift in response.
Creeks tripping over rocks,
bridges and barges and asphalt and arches,
rural merging into urban seamlessly.
And then, unexpectedly,
the clouds start turning pink and orange,
the sun making its steady descent to the horizon.
It lights the earth on fire,
thrilling, exhilarating, enchanting,
the silhouette of trees against the blazing sky.
Our hearts start to sink with the sun.
Because we know.
The departure of the sun means the advent of darkness,
and so we begin pursuing, speeding, chasing the sunset.
We can’t bear to see it end,
we can’t let go.
Yet it continues to slip out of our grasp,
our chasing unsuccessful.
And then, our hearts revive.
“What is this we see?”, our thoughts thunder,
as the super moon emerges through the trees.
In our chasing, we almost missed the beauty, the enormity, the immensity,
of the other hanging light,
the promise of life eternal.
When darkness threatens to overwhelm,
the light shines brightly still.
In our hearts, in our memories, in our legacies.