Twilight years evoke a response as a cord of music entices the ear and stirs the senses reverberating in the dusky silence. You long to sing but don’t yet know the words or melody, just an echo stirring your heart like a gentle breeze, sweet to the lips. Pause, breathe in its essence, soft, fragrant, defused.
Watch as the sun dips low on the horizon and purple and crimson splash their colours on the sky. Listen for the echoes far off. You’ll not hear the melody till the sun sets and things of life grow dim, but you hear the echoes. Like ripples on the water they come to you from the declining sun, borne on the tide of faith. What sweetness can be found here, standing at the water’s edge as the sun bathes the ocean in scarlet. Its dark red orb sinks ever lower seeking its reflection in the waves, and worlds touch just for a moment. You sense vibrations of a world beyond present sight, sighs and visions, sounds and touches born hither on the wind, enticing, calling …
You heard it before, long ago. Once heard it is hard to forget, it reverberates in your soul, the dulcet tones, soft touch of the air, blended colours awakening to your eyes. It waits at sunset when you come home.
Enjoy this twilight, sweetest wine, as a vintage long stored and matured. Savor it, swill the taste in your mouth, smell its aroma. It is a pungent brew and will make you smile, perhaps even laugh at times.
See the fire kindled on the beach. The sun grows dim but the blaze of love shall keep you warm till it dips as fire in the ocean. Throw on things you no longer need, outgrown things of youth, empty ideas, false concepts. No need of them now, consign them to the flames, even your shoes, for there is not far to walk, and the sand is soft and smooth. You are tired now and do not wish to travel more, but there is yet a little time, time to stand in the fires glow and watch the colours of the sky as the sun descends in majesty. It has been a good life, touching the heart of many an ocean and strange, wonderful creatures you met on the sands.
Now it is the final beach, no more wonderings to and fro. Now is time to pause, to listen and in the sound of the surf to hear the echoes again, gently calling. It is not time yet, the fire yet burns, the sun still a ball of flame in the sky. Come, dance, sing, roll free in the surf and lie propped in your lover’s arms as you listen to the echoes the waves bring across the ocean and write them as memorials to your times here. Sit in the twilights lingering glow and listen.