Moved To Stillness

How may I describe,

to the unseen eye,

an ordinary sunset

in San Diego?

A feast of color, yes.

A ferocious,

fiery, wildness,

to be sure.

A grand theatre

of the Gods.

Before you,

the ocean,

that pacific blue

gem, that home

of our local

alien world.

Bearing infinite ripples of molten, silvery steel,

slapping and swaying

against the unmoving,

unmoved.

Playing the ultimate slight of hand:

bringing form to formless.

Shape,

to which there is none.

Peach sherbet colored sky above

singing and spilling

into the watery blue,

her depths

unknown.

And the sun.

Grand

Father

Sun.

His neon yellow flame

sucked cleanly

into

the boundless

horizon beyond.

A dance of color and light.

A trick of the eye,

so spectacular

a sight.

My breath,

Yours,

Ours,

Taken.

Away.

And the black tar restlessness

Of a gotta-make-a-living,

Unconscious,

human day,

the colorless cacophony

of making sense

of the senseless,

is Moved.

To stillness.

Surrendered

to the

white

light.