The sky is putting on its evening show,
a soft golden curtain along the horizon,
while the sun, in its slow descent,
gives us a wink—
a breeze arrives, cool but not too eager,
and the world begins to darken
like someone dimming the lights in a theater.
I sit here with my tea,
thinking this might be one of those moments
you try to remember but can’t quite
— a scene you want to hold onto,
like a favorite song,
but it slips out of your hands
and into your heart,
where it’s stamped with a permanent ink
that only nature knows how to use.
As the minutes stretch into a canvas,
the sky shifts its mood—
the gold turns to fire,
and the purple rushes in,
making its own royal claim,
while the blue lingers,
like the last guest at a party
who doesn't know when to leave,
and then, just when you think
it’s all over,
the dark curtain falls—
the show complete,
and it’s still a sight worth seeing.
I’ll be back for this tomorrow,
I’m sure of it,
though it’ll never look the same—
the morning sky is a different story,
one where the darkness is the first to leave
and the sun, eager to redeem itself,
picks up where the night left off.
But I’ll be there,
watching as the light
does its magic once again,
another piece of nature’s artwork
unfolding before my eyes.
