At the end of every day, when I look at the setting sun, I feel as if I am standing at the edge of that day's fleeting life, while looking with wonder at the possibilities of the beginning of the next day, the empty page of the next life. New Years Eve seems like that to me too. As it approaches midnight, and calendars prepare to change month and year, I am again reminded of what had come before in the old year, and the possibilities of the new one that will appear before me in the seconds to come. It is a difficult feeling to describe because sadness of what has passed intermingles with hope of new opportunities, new chances to improve life. Matthew Arnold, in his poem, "Dover Beach", describes it this way:
Christopher Bogart
In the gloaming,
Black cut-out silhouettes of trees
Stand stark
Against the fading cerulean sky.
In the gloaming,
Fireflies rise in the cool night air
To hover there,
Winking at the gathering darkness.
In the gloaming,
We stand with our feet against the final line,
Our eyes seek out the flight of dying light
To reach the fleeting edge of our eternity.
Published on Poetsonline.com
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