Sunset over the City

There’s something wondrous about looking out of the DLR

And watching the sunset over the skyscrapers in the city.

Its orange rays kiss the clouds, like a long awaited meeting, blending into the slightest hue,

And the accompanying cold breeze illuminates this September evening with its playful bite.

Reflecting off of the window panes of robotic offices,

The sun’s mirror hides true life from all those that pass.

Spending so much time underground, and inside, watching an artificial screen, watching the beauty of the illuminated concrete jungle brings a smile to the commuter’s lips.

“Here,” they think,

“I live here! I work here! I breathe this air! This is the view I get to see on my commute every day!”

Seeing the sun itself is a rarity in this town,

Let alone seeing it in September.

It feels wrong, but still as though,

things are going to be looking upwards.

“If the sun comes out in September,

Then anything is possible,

And the world is my oyster,

Engulfed in the sun’s rays, and shining through the hard days,” the commuter thinks.

The sun gives them an opportunity to stop for a second

And appreciate their every breath,

Yes, even the ones they forgot to pay attention to when they were rushing around.

The sun sees all our troubles and insecurities

And disappears into the cloud

But accompanied by the fragility of life in the big city

And the incessant rain of bad news, bad days and bad thoughts,

Knowing they shall someday get to see the sun again

Is a certainty they daren’t take for granted.

It’s the feeling of being lost in a crowd of nine million

Knowing that as you live your life, people walk past you

With their own hopes and dreams pinned to the pace of their brisk walk

Watching the same stable sun you do

And taking inspiration from seeing it illuminate their eyes.

Or maybe, they’re late to go somewhere, and they really don’t care about the sun.