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Posts Tagged ‘sunset’

Looking Up at the Sky at Sunset

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on January 17, 2026| 4 Comments »


 
 
So much radiance
above the horizon—
glowing pink, deeper pink—
I wanted to gather
it all and keep it,
hold it forever,
but where to
store something
that large? I
gathered all that beauty
in my heart,
my heart, a mockery
of a pocket. Of course
it spilled out. I put
the pink glow back
in the sky. It lit
the whole world.

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What Leaves Us

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on December 9, 2025| 2 Comments »


 
 
Once I knew the names for these clouds,
rounded, puffy and rolling.
I rush out the back door
to see them gather in the west
turning vibrant rose and dusky rose and
deeper shades of darkened rose,
and the only word that rises is “oh!”
I remember how I loved the naming.
Now I love the clouds. How they
sow light in the wild blue fields of sky
and invite every dark thing in me
to look up and be part of the beauty  
without trying to own it, to practice
loving what is beautiful knowing
for certain it will go.

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Too Late?

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on November 28, 2025| 7 Comments »


 
 
By the time we arrive at the cliffside
to watch the sunset, the darkness
has already come. But because
of the ink-ish sky, we see thousands
of yellow lights glitter across the harbor.
And moonlight on the water makes
the blackened surface shine. How often
do I think I’m too late, only to find I have
arrived at just the right moment,
the moment in which there is a beauty
beyond the one I knew to wish for.
Like how, when I thought it was too late
to forgive, forgiveness arrived with its
soft and generous hands. Like how when
I thought I was too late to love, love
bloomed like a sunset, radiant and blazing,
and stayed, the way sunsets never do.
Like how I believed I was here to adore the light,
I came to learn how exquisite, how
lavish, how astonishing, the dark.

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One Glorious

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , on July 7, 2025| 1 Comment »


 
 
no use sipping this sunset—
I guzzle and immediately
I’m tipsy on pink

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One While Flying Away from My Mom

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on March 26, 2024| 4 Comments »

longing to love you forever
I watch the sun go down
desperately red

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By Heart

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on December 9, 2022| 11 Comments »




 
 
So familiar, how the dusky pink sunset
glows above snow-covered mountains,
The color blesses me as I walk alone
while Eva Cassidy sings in my ear,
I know you by heart,
I know you by heart.
My son has been dead
for over year, and now by heart
is the only way I know him.
No longer by touch, by sound, by scent.
Eva sings about how old joy
lives on and on,
and I breathe into the truth of it.
Two years ago I sent my son photographs
of this same dusky pink sunset
over snow-covered mountains—
there was joy in sharing it with him
and I feel that joy now as I talk to him,
my words coming out as visible air
as I speak to what cannot be seen.
Eva sings it again, a descending line,
I know you by heart.
I am grateful for the certainty
that rings through me in song.
He is here. As is joy.
Though he is gone.

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More

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on January 26, 2021| Leave a Comment »

Inspired by dark and naked aspen,
she’s been practicing emptiness—
perhaps you, too, have seen the way
that barren arms can better hold
the changing colors of the sky.
The less she holds, the more love
seems to fill her, pours into her
like the winter sunset, vast and brilliant.
 
All these years she thought the point
was to be full. Now she marvels
at how resonant she is without
so much clutter—how resounding,
the honest beating of her heart.
 

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Self-portrait as Tenement

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on November 25, 2017| 2 Comments »

 

 

 

So sweepingly pink

the sunset over the city

that it pours

into the emptiness—

not to fix it, no,

more as if to show

what a little splendor can do

when given a place

to enter.

 

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Postcard to Emily

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on October 30, 2011| 1 Comment »

How the old mountains drip with sunset
—Emily Dickinson

Dear Emily,

It was just as you said, tonight,
the San Juans rose and blue,
and in the shallow reservoir,
the herons dripping, too—
I did not mean to startle them
as grayly there they stood,
but on hushed feet I stepped myself
into solitude.
Wing after wing they rowed themselves
into the muted dome
till all went dim—oh dark abyss!—
and we were held as one.

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