the Last Two Stars in the Sky

Early. The sky cries in tiny drops of diamonds, sparkling jewels falling upward into a Sea of glowing indigo.
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Of all the ancillary benefits that may or may not accompany my current job, I think it is the rare privilege of being awake during both Sunrise and Sunset of a given day.

I do not adjourn to bed until well after the Earth has turned her face into the Light of our nearest Star, neither do I sleep beyond the Twilight that prefaces the hour she turns away.
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There is a certain magic which occurs during these instances…  all of Nature seems to holds its breath at the glory found in these grand transitions.

Surely, the LORD loves these hours more than others…  for I can think of no other time in which the wonder of His creative hand is more apparent upon the rudimentary elements of the natural world.

The Moon, luminous, a glowing fingernail hovering high above the Eastern sky…  two stars gaze upon from either side, one lesser stands across the room ‘gainst a Southern wall; the other, a brighter brother, stands at her beck and call.

I, but one man, watch this alone. Only I am awake to this beauty in all of the sleeping world. Surely, my watchful eye keeps them in their stead. I must be diligent. For if unseen for a single second, by an idle turn o’ the head, and they will vanish.

Verily, I am their prisoner as much as their sustainer… fear of losing them rivets me to where I stand.

Without thinking, I reach out to cup the stars in my hand. I smile in spite of myself, amused at how foolish I was to think I could hold two stars within my grasp.

My own perspective limits me, as the stars of the heavens do not disappear during the day. Even as I know that it is but the light of the Sun that hides them from my view, still do I feel a strange pain of longing. I feel such a tremendous sense of solitude.

The beauty of this morning is a dulcet pleasure…  as well as an empty one.

Emptiness is a bell that tolls over these silent fields.

Thoughtless nature, a universe of cruelty and chaos, there is neither order nor reason nor hope in a spinning rock hurtling through space.

I am a foreigner here, bound and only bidden to come forth…  as the lightning that lives within the clouds.

Air cannot speak and Water cannot think…  everything is but eating and drinking, for tomorrow we die.

Like the trembling lip of a weeping child, the stars flicker and fade in the morning light.
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My gaze falls upon the brightening horizon, the blinding rim of the Sun hurls golden tendrils…  hiding the last two stars in the sky.

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4 thoughts on “the Last Two Stars in the Sky

  1. I highly recommend the magazine, The Writer, and its web site, writermag.com and encourage you to study the business of submission, the craft of writing narrative and poetry, for you already have the art budding within. You stand between the dusk of passion and the dawn of knowledge. Prepare for the day when your work will not only be read but paid for. 🙂

  2. As a kid often I used to wake up just at that hour and from my window I’d watch the transition of the sky from starfield to daylight. The view after sunrise seemed very mundane!!

  3. I know what you mean… there’s just something strangely magical about the transitions.

    Night-time is lovely and days can be as well but, to me, neither possess the particular wonder of Sunrise/Sunset.

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