Apollo Works his Magic

It is Easter Sunday.

Me and my dearest friend are

On a beach

Striding slowly towards the

setting Sunday sun.

The water is still too chilly

for our bare ankles.

So we walk where the tide

has tightened the sand.

Just before the sun touches

the horizon, we stop,

admiring the magical

glistening of the light

upon the Gulf of Mexico.

Apollo begins to work

His magic,

casting His orange light

as far as the eye can see.

We watch in outward awe

and inner contentment.

Just before the sun slips under

the water, A boat races past,

as though trying to beat the sun.

And finally, with a wink,

the sun dips below

the horizon,

and Apollo’s show is over

until tomorrow.

I turn to my friend,

someone who has loved me through

the darkest hours and the shiniest

moments in my life,

and we embrace.

I am as nourished and nurtured by her

as a leaf on a tree

is nourished and nurtured

by the now-sleeping orange ball.

And so we walk back,

into the uncertain dusk,

another possibility realized.

I wish for a lifetime

of perfect sunsets

shared with angels.

A perfect way

for a day to end;

hand in hand

with a beautiful friend.