Sunsets filled with orange rays of red,
Red twisted with blue cotton light of purple,
Purple painted the sky with yellow.
Yellow, well bright yellow hits the horizon,
And now we're, where the dark blue sky is in.
Bodies of personality lift but what capacities
Of what little individualities is taken,
Taken is a picture if not seen everyday.
A sunset.
But not just any sunset,
But the sun that sets from bay to where every sun lays.
Yet every day that same sun rises
From San Jose all the way to,
Santa Rosa, that sun will hit its rays.
San Jose is where I'm from and I'm here to stay.
Many people from the bay might say,
Would you really include San Jose?
But from large infrastructure to over silicon valley and hills,
And where the palm meets the pine
The pine will always meet the palm
The palm of every hand that's taken this land
A land of vast cultures and tongues
Tongues who spoken in every house
A house to call a home.
Home?...
Will sunsets fill the red with orange rays?
Will the rays of purple light twist the blue of red?
Will yellow paint the sky purple?
Purple, a dark purple shadowing the horizon
A horizon of dark blue is now where we are at?
And bodies of people of a place to call a home.
The breath of air that roams a day
Is where most people's homes,
Is where the sun hits the bay.