i will likely never know where it is i am gone to. Even when i am gone there, what will exist that still can be called "me"?
Each time the Sun sets, i am reminded of this: that the Sun is not gone, it merely is gone to those of us who enter the night. We rest assured of the Sun's return, and the night's, too; we have trained ourselves to not fear the sudden collapse of the solar system, not to panic about another mutiny in Heaven or dread an upending of the physical laws that made and sustain us.
Dusk is a moment of great wonder for me; a little sadness at the passage of time, a delight in the promise of rest. Even on the dreariest of days, the sky seems to expand -- if the sky had shoulders, they would relax at this moment -- and time seems to enter a thin envelope of eternity.
May your moments of rest and wonder expand at each dusk, and may your soul calmly dwell within that envelope of eternity from which you were born.
Your friend --