Chasing Sunsets

I never used to like sunsets.
They reminded me of
unfinished movies paused right before the credits roll,
books left as the pages turned to epilogue,
hoping the story could live forever,
running away from goodbyes.

They proved
I never liked endings.

It remained beyond me
how we could place memories in a box so neatly,
keep them safe for years,
only to tuck them away one day.

How can we
flip through the familiar pages of a once-loved book,
breathe in that warm scent of memory
and then just shut it close?

I used to hold my fist tightly closed,
never letting things go.
And loved waking early to watch the sunrise,
the quiet before the rush
of the day takes over.

Full–
and still incomplete.

They say time brings wisdom.
And now I chase sunsets.

I let my fist unfurl.
I open my palm—
there is nothing there.

Because things end,
And we must let them,
So something new can grow.

It feels surreal
to see light resting on the trees,
the tips of branches bright red,
everything washed in gold,
honoring the day’s last breath
as if the sky itself is learning to let go.

The world slows for a heartbeat.
Things ineffable
glimmer in the hush of evening.

I look at it in awe now,
a soft smile resting on my lips,
my heart full

peaceful

as the sun sets.

Endings;
make room for beginnings.