Have you ever looked out at the setting sun
And wondered quietly
Whether it will ever rise again?
Have you then watched
With an odd mixture of joy and melancholy
As the very next day
New light breaks
Above a glowing horizon?
Some days I curse the light
Which falls through cracks in the curtains, drawn
Which wakes me from a night of restful slumber
Or serves as confirmation
That rest has eluded me once more.
I am grateful for what I have been given
And the pursuit of others with whom I can share these joys
But I do not cling too tightly
To what I have
That some day
The sun will set
At last, for good.