The Dusk (For Grandma)

When dusk comes, does it matter?

It is still sunlight, anyway.

Only much lovelier than dawn,

Only much vivid and pleasing to my eyes.

When dusk comes, is it frightening,

As the darkness consumes the sun?

But in return, paves way for the constellations.

And the stars dance...

And you dance with them.

When dusk comes, is it lonely

Watching her dive down

Deep into the farthest horizon

As swift as an eagle?

You, you long to fly with her.

And fly with her you do,

When dusk comes.

And the skies paint her face

With full vigor and vibrancy,

With youthfulness,

With new life...

When dusk comes,

There, in the velvety clouds she would lay.

Perhaps far from your view,

But she is there.

You know she is there...

Sometimes sitting on the moon,

Or playing with the stars.

You dance with the stars, and with her.

Wishing that these stars don’t fade away.