Evening Art


Thunder is rolling behind me like a boulder down a mountain. The lightning is so frequent it feels like there are only flashes of darkness to interrupt it. Appalachia is alive at evening time. Like the stomach of a starving giant, the sky growls. I take cheating glances back through the broad, open windows. Trying to work. Trying to write. I look again. An inelegant tree silhouetted against a blazing peach band of evening sky. Charcoal clouds above and surly earth beneath. Uneven edges –like life.

The window-framed beauty entices me away from the false light of this monitor. Monitor? I am watching the images of my mind appear before me in insufficient words. I am feeding this hungry screen with the little somethings of my soul. This machine receives my humble offerings like an understanding woman. Behind me the day fades in glory, trumpets of thunder announce its passing. The king is dead, rest in peace. Tomorrow you rise again.

So many things I have put behind me belong there. But here is wondrous thunder and bursts of brightness. Here is sunset. Words can wait. Mine can wait. Here is the evening song of the first Poet. Here is the next line in an undying verse.

Before me is my sub-creation. Behind me is Evening by God.

Turn around.


  1. Mike

    Taking time to hear the Creator as He continues to create. How much do we miss out on because we fail to hear, to see, to be?

    Great stuff Sam and a great reminder too.

  2. Paula Shaw

    “Evening song of the first Poet”…..lovely. Thank you for sharing, and reminding us that some things that are taken for granted are as powerful and awe-inspiring as the first time we noticed…..in spite of us and our silly” taking for grantedness”!

  3. Russ Ramsey


    Sammy. Sammy. Sammy. By the court of three witnesses (JR, T-Bone The Nicknamer and yours truly), you are Sammy.

    Nice stuff. Mail that “evening song of the first Poet” line to yourself in a letter– the poor man’s copyright. That’s GOLD!

    I really enjoyed reading this this morning when I first logged on. Thanks.

  4. sd smith

    Sammy it is. I’ve been called Worse. Seriously, for eight years I was referrred to as “Worse.”

    That was not true.

    Thanks for all the nice comments. This little expression came right on out in a rush and exactly as described. It was a beautiful, sunset storm. Glory to God.

  5. Eric Peters

    sammy (if that is your real name):
    i had a really wise comment typed up, then my computer crashed like a hyena off a rhino haunch high.

    you understand brevity, a quality i’ve yet to learn. i am an admirer of your writing. you should be a RR elder statesman, unless you happen to be younger than Proprietor AP, in which case you would be a RR noblate forced to work your spindly fingers to the bone on an ancient rusted, cranky typewriter. glory be.

  6. Peter B

    Brief and full of creative praise; this is great. If only I could put thoughts into words so well when confronted with the beauty and majesty of God’s unadulterated creation.

    BTW, I had trouble fitting this sentence into my brain: “So many things I have put behind me belong there.” It makes sense on re-reading, but it took a while.

    Thanks for a quick word of encouragement to sing to the King.

  7. becky

    I’m always surprised to find that there are many people in this world who don’t notice sunsets. How sad. Those who do notice them often give no thought to the One who created them. How much more tragic.

  8. Peter B

    Once when I was in college, I called several of my friends to tell them about the sunset that I experienced while outside after a thunderstorm. It seemed very important at the time for them to get outside and experience it.

    They probably thought I was nuts.

  9. Larry


    C.S. Lewis said, “We need to be reminded more than instructed.” Thanks for the beautifully written reminder my friend.


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