the sun slips behind a glowing horizon,
weary of casting light upon
the wicked deeds of man.
perhaps…
in the morning…
but over and over
the sun rises and sets
on a world that crowns wickedness
and spits in the face of righteousness.
one day…
I know…
a greater Son will rise and
fall no more,
casting light on a throng of faithful men
who treasured the light of this Son
while others basked only in the glory of
the one that slips now beneath a glowing horizon.
Will I ever stop writing poetry that a.) contains sunset imagery, and b.) looks forward to eternity?
I think not.
❤ Laurel
Laurel Luehmann 