It is that time of day,
Suspended between afternoon and evening
Perched high on a golden pinnacle.
Light floats, pours,
Down in a gentle rain
From clear blue sky.
Brings with it
Warmth, vision, life,
This is a strange time,
A time of passion and fire
And calm reflection.
Like an image in a mirror, or reflected in a pond,
It is fragile, profound,
Untouchable and yet breakable,
Eternal, and neverending
Even as it fades,
Oh so smoothly,
Into night.
The night is serene
Calm, clear,
The world feels right.
And, smiling,
I remember
The darkness was here before light

Evening silences
Clarity in the darkness
A silence, to think.
The day makes sense now
All those mysteries that passed me by
When light was clear.

I am quiet
Finally, the world is too
Only the birds call still
And I don’t mind them.

It is other humans that annoy
With loud yells
And raucous cries
That cause my soul to shy away
As a child hiding from a storm

But now,
In the darkening night
It is calm

A time I never see
But often dream of
When the world is soft and silent
And the moon glows from a reachable distance
And quiet songs echo through the night

Evening Moments
That magical time when the last jewels of light appear on the horizon,
Like dewdrops in the morning sun.
So peaceful, so serene, so calm.
A bird calls, as if singing to the lost light of day,
Guiding those who’ve yet to really find their way back home.
I feel that moment coming,
When time slips by, and day turns to night.
And in that moment you know
The evening is gone.
To the winds of time, or the songs of fate,
Perchance it will come again,
Those drops of dew on the horizon.
But the night is calling, with its voice as soft as the falling rain.
It is calling.
I must come.