Voices on the Wind Open Theme
Sundown by Lars Samson It erects a line, splitting Earth. In front, Day. Behind, Night. Black tides seep ahead where peaks and other silhouettes stand taller. In waters that swallow reflections. Mountains lock shoulders, damming a sea of light that recedes slower than can be seen. Course never changing. It leans into line, fixed on the horizon. Not seeing the opposite confluence has no border. Simply light blending black to gray. Dissipating to illumination. It canít see the dance of Day and Night: touching fingertips, entwining bodies in early dawn. It doesnít understand Nightís other shore bears a new Day.