The Bleeding Heart of Sunset

photo by Nate Gibson
photo by Nate Gibson

Very still and mild it was, wrapped in a great, white, brooding silence — a silence which was yet threaded through with many little silvery sounds which you could hear if you hearkened as much with your soul as your ears. The girls wandered down a long pineland aisle that seemed to lead right out into the heart of a deep-red, overflowing winter sunset.”
~ L.M. Montgomery from Anne of the Island

graysun

chocosun

If I can put one touch of rosy sunset into the life of any man or woman, I shall feel that I have worked with God.
~G. K. Chesterton

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photo by Nate Gibson
I wonder at a northwest sunset
evolving from gray haze to warm into golds,
then pinks and oranges to bleeding red. 
So too my heart overflows,
pulsing out the love
poured into me
from God’s endless grace.

I too,
once graying at the end of the day,
will be covered with roses.

Crimson Coda

Bellingham Bay-photo by Nate Gibson
Bellingham Bay-photo by Nate Gibson

No breath of breeze~
Leaves hang limp, unshaken
By wisp of wind or weary bird wing.

Heat drips from every pore
Moist salty brine
Pours unbidden into pooling eyebrows.

Await the evening coda as bold brush strokes paint
A palette of rosy crimson and orange
Above the creeping gray fingers of twilight

Until no longer streams vermilion bourn,
No more suspended furnace as the fiery
Remnant drops beyond reach, irrevocable, steaming.

Red Sunset photo by Nate Gibson
Red Sunset photo by Nate Gibson
Almost gone photo by Nate Gibson
Almost gone photo by Nate Gibson
Mt Baker at dusk-photo by Nate Gibson
Mt Baker at dusk-photo by Nate Gibson