Few know I was-am a fantasy buff. Not, not the love tales, but the lore of swords and magic, of times bygone, far off, fantastic. It was there that bounds existed not, and my mind could fly freely, limited only by ideas of possibility. Worlds where suns could know multiplicity. On the battleground in the battle, to the heavens they/we looked in times of death and times of birth. Look to the west
we would as darkness grew, to see the setting sun, the imagery of death, ending, fin. But here, in this place, turn our heads to the east
we'd say and do, to that second sun, round so pure, rising to shed light, cast shadows of hope and shine and glory, birth. In this place and land and dream we fought for our causes and desires and values and families, believing our belief was what to believe in. Here, one sun set as another rose. Dawn and dusk all in one conjoined and with one the other and the other, one. One sun set as another rose.
Look to the west and look to the east we would. One sun set as another rose.