Tonight the sky is gloriously pink
And you think
To yourself
As you're walking along
That you can't possibly write about
A sunset 
In a blog about inspiring things
What a cliché

And then you think 
How can it be that the 
Twirling of the earth
At just so an angle 
At just so a distance from 
The largest star in our neck of the galactic woods 
Allows you to exist at all

And the perception of that 
Star sinking below the horizon
Is just that 
Perception
Because the sun itself
Is not going any where
It is you
Tiny ant on a tiny marble 
Who is spinning 

And the fact that the "rising" and "setting" 
Of the sun has become so 
Every day (haha) 
That we dismiss the radiance of
Pinks and purples and oranges and reds and 
Rays of light
As cliché
Predictable, overused, commonplace 
Is truly mind boggling

And so
Tonight the sky is gloriously pink.