Into That Good Night

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The sun was setting quietly today. Almost as if she knew it was the end. The heavens were fully illuminated with the oncoming death of the star, but its beauty was no less than any other day. They always said “do not go gentle into that good night” as if it was heroic. As if to go gently and with grace was some form of weakness. How little they knew of death and nature. She was grown in the pits of the vacuum, forming from the most intense and extreme reactions of existence. That extremity gave certain clairities about life as reward. Nothing was permanent; though it certainly seemed so to them with the ways they used the body that housed them, parasitically extinguishing the life force that created them. They, with their lives so small and tiny, viewed the rest, the large and mighty, as permanent. As though the large and mighty didn’t experience the same laws of nature that they did. She hung low in the sky, able to see the singular beach, hidden away in the islands, where they did not roam. It was quiet; all that was to be heard was the lapping of the waves onto the wet sands and the occasional call from other kinds. Her light streamed across the skies, weaving its way through white clouds, coloring them gold. Reflections of her beams bounced off the water and sky and painted a lovely pink wash over everything. She sighed. If only they knew. Life itself brought forth the existence of death for without one, the other did not exist. If only they knew that the most powerful of beings experienced the same laws of this plane that the smallest of beings did. If only they knew that only in acceptance does all the superfluous fade to the black vacuum background, leaving the foreground painted with all the colors they knew and so many they didn’t yet. Her flares reached further out, kissing their fragile atmosphere, sending lightning-like bursts through the skies. She had been holding back so long, wanting to protect what she could. But even for her, the most powerful being of the system, nature did not wane. Truth could be cold, but it was definite. So as she dipped into the horizon of that one beach - her favorite of them all - she did not cry. She did not fight. She did not ask why. She simply breathed in, one last time, excited to dip into the cool waters after burning bright for so long. As she dipped further and further, as the beach moved past her view and shielded its eyes, so she released, having said her goodbyes, gentle and powerful into that good night.