the light splayed across our back porch feels surreal. the sky is scattered with grey clouds and on the lucky off chance that one of them should catch the whole of the sun it quickly saturates everything below, giving life and color to an otherwise very brown, drab desert.
i'm reminded of the whitman piece, song of myself, that i've admittedly only made it through once in its entirety almost a lifetime ago. a single spear of summer grass proving that life forever leads forward, all going onward and outward, nothing collapsing.
this sunset is my whitman blade of grass. -- evidence of life, religion, of God. all moving forward together and nothing ever completely collapsing.
summer is this sunset, God is this sunset, but maybe most importantly, we are this sunset.
and i am.