Day

Dark - an absence of light,
dark
nights, dark
waters,
it's always darkest
before the
dawn - the first light
of a new day,
the expiration of the last,
friend to the muses,
when birds break fast.
Serenity seeks,
for a sight familiar.
Look ahead,
joy comes in the
morn - beginning
at sunrise, leading to noon.
Light in the water,
seeds on the loam.
Petals falter,
behind thin glass,
Cold air,
snakes between the garden plants,
inviting Motion,
into the world,
bestirring critters.
Arise! says he;
let us go up at
noon - zenith of the sun, center of our days,
All heaven shining with unbridled grace,
leaving sapphire dregs and steel remains
scattered across golden plains.
Standing before wheels of fire,
the highest peaks,
are crowned with wonder,
furrowed brows,
with sweat from labor,
seeking that which they dost desire.
In this harsh exacting hour,
no shame to falter under;
this, too shall pass,
into afternoon - the halcyon eras of our days.
Lined,
by golden trees and
copper meadows,
Down slow rivers,
swathed in yellows,
settled into perfect
repose,
the world stills,
while time
still
flows.
Biting a ripened pear,
leaves spinning
threading air.
Oblivious to encroaching night,
watching shadows swim in dancing light.
Somewhere distant,
blinks,
a baleful Eye.
For that wistful dream,
the swan let sings her mournful cry;
as across the border,
comes
night - the final chapter,
our memories written in
silver threads stretched
across a vast
blue sea of stars, vast
in its envelope,
small,
in its entirety,
comforting,
for the
darkness,
the small things;
terrible things,
lumbering things,
silent things;
there is beauty in their allotted time,
and providence,
in their falling.
everything falls
into