Image created by Iddy
Disclaimer: The characters are Paramount's, their actions are mine.
Summary: Another story in my "Tokens" series about how Spock comes to realize his life is incomplete. A prequel to "Hallowed Blessings".
I'm not sure when I started looking at the sunset with a sense of beauty instead of meteorology. That is no small admission coming from a Vulcan. Since my death and rebirth I find such concerns--even those I used to espouse--of little consequence.
I used to watch Jim stop and take notice of the beginnings and endings of the day when he had a moment during our many missions. I never understood it, but it was enough that it seemed to restore him. It is with some interest I realize that it has taken me over fifty years to appreciate what is instinctive to any Human--beauty for the sake of beauty.
This evening I ostensibly sit in meditation. However, the remnants of vibrant red, burnt orange and deep indigo send my senses outward to Vulcan rather than to any sort of inner reflection. The deep and vivid colors bring a sense of warmth to my body that the ambient temperature can scarce explain. On evenings such as these I am transported back to the harsh beauty of my homeworld, a connection unexplainable by any logical science, but is there nonetheless.
As the harsh colors begin to soften with the fading of the light, I consider how different the skies of Earth and Vulcan truly are. Vulcan sunsets are vivid but limited in color, while Earth's spectral palette is as varied as her people. Intellectually I understand the science for their differences but it matters little to me now. From the honey gold of spring evenings to the harsh, blue cool winter endings, each earthly sunset is a work of art, no less deserving of admiration than any masterpiece in the Louvre. The hazy yellow collapse of summer suns and the fiery infernos of autumn endings never cease to amaze me, opening my eyes to new levels of awe.
My body subtly relaxes in the fiery glow, letting down guards that can only uncoil in the security of home. Yet I sit on the roof of Nyota's brownstone on Earth, not my own planet--not even my own home. As the last dying embers drop below the horizon I consider that thought--my world--my home. Has my body realized something my mind has failed to recognize? Have I come to accept Earth as much my home as Vulcan? Have these past months spent in Nyota's presence made me consider it such?
I find my temperament grows grim as I watch the last warm color fade into nothingness. Just as fleeting as the sunset, so I find my time with Nyota, a Human whose lifespan is half my own. Since Jim's death I feel each day keenly, recognizing each moment is a gift I still can share with those I love. Yes, 'I love'--words I would have denied in the past--but now I know it is foolish to worry about such things. I love Nyota. It is that simple now. For many years it was not. For most of those years it was wrapped in denial and our concern for another. That is the pain of love for which Vulcans banish the joys of love. I can no longer deny or avoid; I no longer wish to.
Nyota, who personifies all the sunsets I admire. I find I desire the variety of such a spirit rather than the comfort of a pleasing but never changing hue. The lilt of her laughter brings a smile to my lips that I refuse to banish. Her tears can shred my heart just as easily. Our minds are now one, our hearts beat in synchronicity.
It has taken decades to recognize these feelings--or more truthfully--to accept them. But now time is no longer a friend, it heals old wounds only to cause greater injury with its passing. Life is short; a cliché to some, but suddenly a profound statement to my mind. I am no longer content to sit here and wax poetic over momentary splendor. I must go downstairs and ask eternal beauty to spend the rest of forever with me. The logic is inescapable.
~ID'ic
No comments:
Post a Comment