He watched the world awake: magenta sky with violet streaks that glowed before muting into daylight’s blue. Sky painted, then, in passion hues—ephemeral spirit—conveying wonder that cannot, forever, hold; and when it dies, a golden light breaks low in sky as line into rising orb that burns through low-veil clouds, before, cast as violet wisp.
It is a new world: a different sky. Passion’s glow departs. Even so, there holds gratitude for having witnessed and lived moment in its presence.
World and life continue under the light of a new and rising sun.