Evening Sky

I see shades of red, orange, tangerine, purple and gray lose their identity to merge into darkness. How do I define the color of darkness – is it charcoal, navy or just black? Clouds and twinkling stars play their role of enhancing the dark, or being enhanced by it.

I think of the color of dreams I once nurtured. In the twilight stage of life, they appear to be merging into a fast approaching end – which is perhaps, the same color for all – unlike the night sky. I don’t expect galaxies to light my path ahead. I don’t expect the colors to come alive once again. They had a limited shelf life, but served their purpose. What would life be without hope, and without dreams?

Walking through the illuminated streets and decorated shops, I know that festivals are invented to re-ignite hope. It needs a repeat ritual, as the mundane reality of life pull us down.

There is a knock at the door of Consciousness. I’m not sure if the Messenger of Liberty has come for me, or is it another cold morning? I would like to make my choice this time around.

night falls

I make a choice

once again

 

Tale Weaver #202