Blue succumbs to brilliant washes of orange, raspberry and violet–each tipped with glowing

golden aura. Not just above now, but reflected in the sea. Completeness. The sun melds into

the horizon with a final burst of resplendence, as a lover gives an extra squeeze to bid

adieu, “Remember me. I will return.”

I believe. I will see you on the other side.

Night begins.

White. The presence of all colors, gentle light bears witness to the sun. Lifting dark veil,

illuminating field and glistening dew-tipped petals, smiling moon lights the way home. A

beacon, as a parent’s consolation to frightened child, “I’m here, baby, it’s okay.”

I believe. Safe, secure, through dark of night.

And the sun rises.

Sun and moon, seasons, cycles. Seed to tree, decay, fertile soil bears life again. Teachers,

all. Eager student, I, in wondrous reception, hoping to relay these glorious lessons, teacher,

student, teacher. Breathe in, breathe out. . .

Selah.

©Joan T. Warren

In response to this week’s WordPress writing challenge, to share our experience as

teachers, as students. Appropriately, for teacher appreciation week, too.