Does everything stop when a beautiful sunset occurs? I think it does. I think the Earth stares at her star-crossed lover as he slips away. I think she salutes him. I think she stands with tears of sorrow at his departure and joy at his beauty. Should she run after him and stop him, or should she let him go so he can create a work of art? Is he more beautiful when he’s with her or when he’s slipping away?
Ask the clouds; they know. Without them, there would be no painted sunsets across the sky. Without clouds to obscure the thoughts and hide the heart, the feelings would be trite and transparent. But they roll in, filled with emotion and moist tears, and it is their arrival that sets off the chain of events. The very thing that blots out the sun also brings out his beauty. It is the portending of bad weather that creates gratitude in the heart.
All the creatures stop to watch the sun disappear. He never once looks over his shoulder to see the crowd watching him from behind. It’s as if he never knew them. He sends his last brilliance almost offhandedly, not to the Earth but up to the complicated clouds that wait on his command. When he’s gone, the clouds rule. Our minds fog over for the night, and shelter is sought. We wait expectantly for the sun to return and relight the flame of hope. Do not be surprised when he arrives and has no knowledge about the struggle of the night before.
|The clouds know.|