The twin flames flicker, one to remember and one to keep,Â
casting shadows by the window.Â
As the sun dips behind the apartment building across the street,Â
and the sky dissolves from energetic blue into tranquil purples and idle pinks,Â
the flames sway to an unheard melody.Â
Slowly, leisurely, the orange of the setting sun melts away from the darkening sky,Â
and comes to rest in our home.Â
The orange glow spreads out from the candles over the wine, over the bread,Â
and fills the room with warmth.Â
The world outside the window settles, breathes a tired sigh,Â
relieved of its labor by the darkness now enfolding it.Â
Inside, we too can breathe anew.
Two embers remain inside the ring of rocks, one to honor and one to enjoy.Â
The branches hanging just overhead sway in time with the flickering lights,Â
as everything surrounding the campfire – the creaky trees, the soil, the cool air –Â
settles into a slow, slumbering waltz.Â
Tomorrow the sun will rise again,Â
climbing past the drowsy maples and sleeping boulders,Â
and we too will hike to the peak, sweaty and alive,Â
to greet the daybreak as the sun continues to climb far beyond us.Â
That warm orange glow and the endless viewsÂ
will renew and refresh, invigorate and inspire us,Â
as we breathe in the breeze sweet with the scent of mountain laurels.
