I captured this beautiful sunset a couple weeks ago and have been meaning to put it up here for a while. And all the time, that powerful poem by Welsh poet Dylan Thomas (1914-1953) kept running through my mind. Having lost my father almost 3 years ago to the week, this poem has even greater impact for me now more than ever. I hope you'll forgive me this slight indulgence.
So here, accompanied by Dylan's words, is my contribution to Orange Tuesday #colorchallenge by @kalemandra...
Do not go gentle into that good night...
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Taken from 'The Poems of Dylan Thomas', published by New Directions