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,

bestirs 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.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

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,

whilst time

still

flows.

Biting the 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 lets free her indulgent 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