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Poem

Lightly, almost imperceptibly,
dusk quiets and stills the day.

The brightness and youth
of morning vibrates with
exciting expectations
of unknown adventures
waiting to be discovered,
a reaching-out for the new,
the yet-to-be understood, 
surpassing the mind’s compass,
the boundaries and limits
of comprehension and imposition.

Time passes, a transmutation 
occurs, barely noticed.
The heat of the mid-day sun
exposes newly-discovered
experiences and passions
that subsume all days
with the present, the now, 
nothing more, nothing less,
in a momentary phase,
narcissism, an island in the sun.

In time, the sun loses its heat.
We breathe air cooled with a stir
of late afternoon breeze that
tempers passions and desires
and leads to a calmness of mind
with faint birdsong, the music
of rustling leaves and grasses,
and a contentment born of
experience, age, and wisdom
and the beauty of the evening. 

In the end dusk slips over the day
lightly, almost imperceptibly.

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