Night Dawns

The pink of the sunset, which is a pink beyond all rational comprehension of the concept of pinkness, is most exulted when clouds obscure the light. A sunset with no clouds is a sterile male with no prospect of a lover. The clouds are impregnated with eternal links of light. And the pink lives within the clouds which obscures the light in wondrous awe.

And the blackening sprawling tree spreads out upon the sky, spidery and Galaxy-like as night dawns. The Milky Way is spilt blood, a tear in space fabric from an ancient war continuing today in our DNA.

Beauty and love are impermanent upon first glance. For mortals, they fade upon the memory as the sun upon the dark land. For those who are born again (and again that is freely given), the moment exists forever in the present as we pass along from glory to glory, weeping in awestruck wonder.

The darkening night is as the day to the Lord of Hosts, to the Lamb who was slain from the beginning of the world.