The Sundown In My Village

With the sun moving westwards The sky turns crimson like a bride. Shadows lengthen along country lanes as snakes uncoiling in the dark. From the far away minaret, The muezzin's loud cry is heard. The *coolies, after the day's toil, hasten away to their cluttered shacks. The notes of a familiar lay flow down from the talkie house. Women in gaudy, silken wear, with strings of Jasmine tucked to their hair, saunter gaily to the local shrine. Men winding up their day's business retreat to their habitual haunts. The herdsmen from slopes of hills, hasten the sheep to be locked in pens. Storks line upon slimy fields to feed on fish, trapped in puddles. In the slanting beams of evening light, the landscape lies in ethereal hue. With the sun, plummeting into the depths - I saw………....... darkness swallowing the sleepy Earth like a python devouring its unwary prey, and the day slowly dying down. Drunk in that gorgeous grace, I, into a luminous glowworm turned!