One of the warmest people we know,
leaves us every evening.
Reminds us that we live in a painting,
one with colorful skies, clouds, grass, trees and reeds.
As he leaves, the shades drip out of the painting,
the tones fade, the hues ooze out.
He walks endlessly,
from horizon to horizon.
Tired, crouched, with slow footsteps,
as he walks away from us;
He brings hope and joy
to the ones who try to see him.
Somewhere, on the horizon,
he seems to gain energy;
which he again distributes to us all,
and fathers the world.
~ ~ ~ ~
It finally dawned on us, even though it was a sunset. The setting sun, through a canopy of trees in a wooded area near what we call home, looked like a human figure retreating away from us – walking towards a distant horizon, growing smaller, dimmer and colder as he went along.