Musings on a Twilight in Early December, 2012
The season of lights: — why is it only a season? Why not year round, always.
I looked out my windows tonight and captured the scent of an old friend, an innocence and optimism I’d thought long gone, from when I still believed in the Prince of Peace. The being who, whether or not divine, had so affected the world in so positive a manner. A feeling I’d lost so long ago that I can’t remember the instant or the place, I only know that whatever he stood for stands betrayed by those who most loudly call his name.
Still, the resonance of that divine essence stirs my blood, if only in echoes and memories and shadows and tugs at my soul asking if there isn’t a way to make those long ago dreams real again. To make those betrayed promises realities.
To cast a dawn out of the hidden colors of darkest night.
© Guillermo Calvo Mahé; Manizales, 2012; all rights reserved