A POEM FOR ALL THE DANCING BEARS
Sunset With the Grateful Dead, 1993
“There is a road, no simple highway …”

The sky is purple-gray and blue all at once in different places. Behind some of the clouds, or maybe within them, it seems a heroic orange is bursting through, a bright flaming flare-up hue that inevitably dies with nightfall and will not show itself again until tomorrow’s sunset, if then. If ever.
And if it does come back tomorrow or the day after, or with next year’s summer solstice twilight, we may not be looking in the right place to see it, or, once seen, be able to fully embody what we feel tonight: the holy triumph of natural color, the blessing of heavenly lights, our barefoot feet dancing on receptive Earth, our vision sanctified like a gift we share with the intimate sky.
Listen to “Ripple” by the Grateful Dead, see the sky, feel the Earth.
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