Dawn and Dusk
Waiting for the Sunrise
Some call me the twilight,
and some call me the night.
But I am the Dusk.
Every night I bring forth silver stars,
I roll out the inky darkness,
and the deep velvet clouds.
I hang the moon in the void of the twilight.
It and the stars are the only pinpricks of light in my gloom.
My realm is often cold,
the night breezes run along the earth,
its crisp chill sinking into the universe.
I am bleak,
with only midnight blacks and deep purples to surround me.
The evening is silent.
Nothing to say a word,
nobody to shout into the emptiness.
I am the Dusk,
and I sit without a word on my lips.
But every night,
I wait.
I linger to watch as the Dawn follows behind me.
She smiles,
and my world lights up.
The Dawn brings beams of blood oranges, lemon yellows, and raspberry reds.
She is like a fire, piercing my deep lavender skies.
The clouds change,
like an artist’s palette.
The stars start to fade from their stunning silvers,
into their caribbean blue colors to match her light skies.
She replaces my ash colored moon,
with a vibrant sun.
A sun that expresses itself with rays of brilliant light.
It spreads her hope and her love on to the world.
I smile when I get a limited glimpse of it.
My heart begins to feel warm and cheerful,
because of her.
But it’s never for long. I can only see her for an instant,
a glance,
before I have to move on.
But that one breath of a moment,
I know I will always love her.
She is bright,
with the warmth of all
and joy.
Dawn brings the color to the sky.
She fills everything with her perspective of life.
While I am the silence of thought,
she is bursting with light and wisdom.
She is never afraid to share what she loves.
Every night I wait.
I stay in the darkness
with only the thought of her brightness in my heart.
I am the Dusk,
waiting for the sunrise.
For I am destined to never meet the daylight,
but I have found myself in love with the Dawn.
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