Sunsets and Silence
I’ve watched a thousand sunsets fade,
from rust to rose, and gold to gray.
Each one felt like a prayer,
I never had the words to say.
Out past the airport, back of town,
where the world don’t beg to be loud,
Sit on the hood once my truck broke down,
and let the silence talk real proud.
There’s something ‘bout the way it ends—
a soft, unhurried, honest light.
Like it don’t mind what day you had,
it just bows out and says goodnight.
And I ain’t got much figured out but,
I know pain looks small in that red hue.
Grief don’t feel so mean when the sky
bleeds ‘cause it’s hurting too.
I used to think the sun went down
just to make the world feel colder,
but now I think it leaves each night
to teach us all to shoulder
the loss, the love, the long regrets,
the things we said we’d never do—
sunsets don’t erase mistakes,
they just paint ‘em in a softer hue.
And I don’t chase ‘em like I used to,
don’t beg the colors not to go.
I just sit quiet, hat in hand,
and thank the Lord for the show