As I walk over a trail I turn up to the top of a hill
finding myself face to face with the sun.
I want to make sure I reached the highest point of the hill so I look around.
There's nothing higher than the rock I'm standing on.
A chasm spreads out at my feet.
I notice all leaves are dead and all birds are quiet.
Stillness is in the air and every single form of life finds comfort now,
as if everything was resting because nothing in the entire world would have to fight to stay alive
on this brief moment...
Life is still...
I look again and the sun is setting,
I witness its private moment,
its ritual of undressing colors,
its last yawn.
Blue, green, yellow, all the dressing tones of the sun are one by one thrown through the air now filled with a divine spectral composition.
Yellow linens of air mixing with orange sparks reach the violet clouds softly permeating the king of light.
Then all the hills and mountains go black, brown and navy blue. A wavy royal bed is set for the king.
A king that hides behind the mountains to then, relentless rescue us from darkness
again, again and again.