Dusk

The day ends as quietly as it began
The nights covering hiding the earth’s secrets
The sun takes his rest
As the moon prepares to take his place

Stillness silence the calamities of the day
There’s a settling of the mind
Peacefulness as the stars play in space

The clouds like small children called in from a day of play
Is this there end or will they have a time to shine tomorrow?
Maybe in another sky

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A place dared to be explored
One seemingly bottomless, endless--the way out a mystery
Not a maze—an un-navigated wilderness

Curiosity and desire draws to this place without an exodus
The aroma of ecstasy and the allure of passion
And temptation sweet like the night air--arouse the senses
Surrendering would be a certain lively death

Lost on the path of emotions
So tangibly real—living in a dream
Escaping to hide within the cleft
A world unknown to the common
Where the stars dance

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There’s warmth in the air in spite of what’s going on in the visible view. The reality lies in the invisible realm. Tent dwellers—only passing through—but living as if this is the final show. All working towards that grand finale. Sometimes we play the main character. Sometimes we play the supporting cast. If Shakespeare is right—if life is just a stage there must be more after the final curtain call. Until then, take a bow and wait for the applause.

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This day is ending--time soon forgotten only the faces seen in passing play on the minds screen. The evening sun will soon be sinking –sinking into its hiding place for a moments rest. Anxiety rolls in as the clouds roll away. No more time for play--only eternity is infinite and sure. The mood’s changing you can feel it in the wind. Time to set another stage the atmosphere must follow the course. Trying to hold the day’s moments is like trying to keep lighting bugs alive in a mason jar on a summer’s night.

The memories keep re-arranging finding there hierarchy among the days and times of forgotten scenes. Lessons as subliminal as background music constantly attempting to lead in a certain direction. We inevitably miss the cue until the crescendo is so obtrusively loud and we no longer can ignore the cymbals banging in the background. As the sun dial acts as the gauge even Kali’s dance can not arouse and cause it to stand erect and still.