the sky-
spills over at
the edge of day,
in the whispers 
of warm oranges.

vibrant violets-
bleeding softly
into blue,
blues whispering
to first of
the thin shadows,
what silence 
really feels like.

pearly pinks-
too delicate to last
hold on anyway,
before they too drift.
like the last 
kind words,
before the door closes.

before the sun-
that old actor
bows again,
not out of defeat,
but- for the sake
of not going away
quietly.

the sky-
doesn’t beg
to be noticed.
it stretches
slow and wide,
like a secret
finally told. 

in its last-
minutes today,
the sun
decided to 
flout the dark.

one last dance-
before folding
into the arms of dusk,
one last twirl
into dusk’s arms.

sunsets-
sometimes feel
like the beginning
of a goodbye,
or perhaps,
it is just 
screams of the Sun:
not yet. 
not yet. 
not yet. 

but then-
so do so many things
that we live through,
yet- we still manage
to survive
without 
them. 

how long-
is forever?
whoever truly
has a forever?
the sky 
never answers.
the sun 
just waits,
until the next 
bloom of fire
at 5:48 a.m.

tomorrow-
Lazarus rises
like all things
divine and stubborn
faithful and relentless,
doing it all,
all over again.

stubborn light-
not to save us,
not to prove a point,
not for applause.
without drama,
without song,
just light-
again.
again.
again.

some mornings-
are like sermons,
others, small mercies,
soft rebellion,
against giving up.

those of us-
who are always
in a hurry,
to declare
we have had
enough.
we rush-
we mourn,
we regret,
like they are 
our prayers,

a reminder-
not everything that fades
is always gone.
not every surrender
means the end.
sometimes it is,
just the world
catching its breath.

a quiet light-
spills in,
carrying the name
of a new day,
new dreams,
and new hopes
on its shoulders.

unbothered-
by memories,
unfazed-
by realities,
it doesn’t care
who left,
who stayed,
or who wept,
all night.

full of-
possibility,
it just arrives
unbothered.
screaming 
loudly-
I am.
I am.
I am.

life-
is a strange
staggering ride
of bruises
and miracles.
beautiful,
bizarre,
and everything
in between.
yet, it is
only for you
to survive, 
to thrive,
to be-
the chaos you
always wished
to become. 

you are-
the one in control,
one solid thing
you can always
hold on to.

and that-
that has always
been enough.
you will survive
you always have.
you always have.
you always have.