Verbal Pink, Orange, and Red

Thorns rip me across exposed skin in my haste to blend into the thicket of woods and brambles. Solitude and serenity is my quest; a simple thrill in viewing the sunset alone, undisturbed and introspective, from a hidden natural setting. I bleed as I sit amidst the stunted-growth trees and pine needles and granite. It is Friday evening. I don't need a shower or clean clothes or phone calls or money or cigarettes or car keys or problems or rubbers or anyone. I crave this simple departure into the force of life that is bigger than any creature on the face of this earth. I managed to make it in time--time being relative to the turning of the earth and the clarity of the sky and the position my butt is resting--to absorb what too many people simply take for granted if noticed, blocked with sunglasses or sunvisors, or cursed/craved from behind a restrictive window.

Melding light and emotions and existence into the passing colors of tonight's sunset alters my direction and outlook on my life. It isn't easily described the inspirational power to alter in hues my life, or the opportunity to let the passing of time affect me merely in a reflection of skycast light, but the hum inside my body resonates from this event. And my earthly form was changed, my soul was touched from a bright-white source, and my thoughts were reconstructed based upon my deviation from my draining, deluding ritual of happiness or fun.

I've been impressed upon, influenced, motivated. How do you capture the passing of time in words? A picture would simplify the event. Words are harder; truly try to write about a sunset sometime and see for yourself. I chose to write this out of a day of thoughts, situations, and adventures for sheer survival of the captured beauty I shared with forces greater than I. Words are cheap, positive thoughts are lucky, impressions are rare, and finding the footpath of direction develops the receipent blessed to experience the transformation into motion and permanence. This is gratitude.