I feel grief like the setting sun
that steals away all its light and warmth.
The very being that nourishes my body
has hoarded itself away,
tucked far from my fingers
reaching for a comfort that will not come.
And sometimes I feel grief like the rising sun—
once slumbering, hidden from awareness,
suddenly tumbling across the sky
in a blaze of color
that draws shadows long and dark along the earth.
Never fully expected, but always anticipated.
The heat will surely bite into my flesh,
leaving red marks and a parched tongue.
It will remind me that I am alive.
And every place the light caresses
with its blinding beauty
will remind me of all of the ways I have loved.
xx
Nykhia
