It is easy to be mesmerized by the beauty of sunrise and the blazing hope it represents. But for me, it takes a battle-wounded heart to find the beauty in a dying sun.
I’ve been drawn to the sunset because of a beautiful kind of death it resembles. And I speak of a transient kind of death that we all somehow go through. I speak of the hard times and those moments of failures wherein we feel defeated. I speak of the times when people who had at some point in time meant the whole world to us let us down, left us cold in the wild while feeling dead inside.
I speak of the moments the wind is knocked out of our lungs, sending us down to our knees, and making us feel we no longer posses any strength to get back up. I speak of the moments we feel lost in darkness; those times when we fail to recognize who we really are and what we really stand for in this world. I speak of all the times we feel as if we have lost the will to live.
But the sunset speaks of a different story. It speaks of how these kinds of deaths we experience while being alive in this world give way to being reborn. It gives us the guarantee of a new life after each “dying” moment in our lives, where we get a chance to shine brighter and higher in the sky like the morning sun.