As I peer into the sunset I see the hues of reds and oranges. I recall these colors from a dream long ago forgotten. The happiness I find in these colors were of times past. My family is always near, they seem to know of my travels yet never speak of them. These travels in time seem to be lost to those who never dream, and those who dream are forever cursed in knowing what they have lost.

These colors seem to slip away on the horizons of my dreams. They twist and turn in the winds of time, blowing towards the setting sun. Chasing it, trying to catch a glimpse of the future the wind slows knowing it is unable to catch the sun in all its warmth and light. Again the darkness falls on the horizon, cold to the touch. Barren wastelands on the horizons creeping out the the fog seem to be laughing at the winds of time.

Tomorrow the winds will see the dawn of a new day and will laugh at the fog as the new morning dries the dew. The wastelands become fields of green blossoming warmth as the winds seek knowledge from the colors of the dawn.

I often wonder if my life is as these colors of life. Will I laugh like the wind and the fog? Maybe I will stand in awe of the majestic colors and revel in knowing these colors could not occur without both the moisture from the fog and the wind to carry it to the plains of my minds eye.

Would you laugh?



G

Really good write, I enjoyed reading that

Not laughing....smiling

((((( G )))))

I stand in awe of thee,,, I so enjoy seeing the world thru your eyes,,,,

Hugs

I stand in awe of every rising and setting of the sun, the colors of my world grant me clarity. Beautifully exquisite piece G