Sunset and windmills

Sunset and windmills

We raced the sun, almost
missed the sunset,
came upon it just as the orange orb
balanced over the wild, churlish waters
bleeding fire into the waves.

Sunset over Mykonos,
an explosion of color.
Together we share this island
of savage beauty,
the wind battering the waters,
the sky pummeling down the sun
pushing it deeper
down
down
beneath the horizon
of our consciousness.

And then the raw
bleeding clouds,
the flaming pink
and golden fires
peeling across the sky.

I am screaming
with color,
my soul, seared
by this untameable magic
where gentle blue melts
into raging crimson

where all the colors of my soul
are splattered across the sky
deepening long after
dark descends.

Poseidon, Aphrodite,
Athena, Apollo,
gods of this tempestuous land,
grant that your dusks
be my resurrection.
Grant that I can bear
another sunset.
Grant that I forever carry
into each velvety night,
throbbing and pulsing within me,
your sacred fires,
your fierce tenderness.

Tracy Marks