It has been quite some time since I blogged, travel and the holiday season having claimed my attention. Among the many photographs I have taken recently (photography being my latest obsession), sunsets have given me the most pleasure.
There is something about the transcendent colours, the illuminated clouds, and the restful sense that day is ending, one’s labours are done and the night awaits, that creates a sense of peace in my heart.
The glory of such a day’s ending invokes a kind of soaring joy. Were it possible, my soul would fly from my body and bathe itself in the crimson-gold of the clouds and the band of azure that kisses the horizon.
I would like to share with you now, some of the images that bring me such pleasure, with excerpts from a poem I wrote when I was 13 years old and first perceived the numinous quality of sunsets.
Wells of deep blue,
Fields of gold,
Wisps of cyclamen,
Mysterious smoke of mauve,
The indescribable glory of a suspended, cherubim paradise,
akin to the unreachable vastness of the subconscious mind.
Colour is a knife, stabbing the soul with the sword of beauty.
The horizon is a misty dado of blood edged with the oncoming night.
Pulsating, dying, the sun bids farewell to the tranquil sky.
A bird soars into the azure, sweet notes lost in the blaze of colour…
… a promise of return.