Inspiring a stream of diverging thoughts at the twilight hour in your reminiscing. Thoughts of a day with the length of the shadow ahead but now fading.
Lost in thoughts, folding glabella at tough luck, and amidst formings of nasolabial folds for the countable episodes, you will hear a whisper by the rays. A comfofting whisper..
An assuring Pat of a whisper talking, “You did all you had to do.”
At that moment of self-reflection, you will also see the clarity in the sage. There is dawn to bright days. And a dusk to dark days.