Father Time
As the evening turns to a whisper, the sky changes to the color of wine
and while the trees with their over-shadowed limbs hover by the path,
saving stars of heaven shine down,
as brilliant as the eyes of Father Time.
When the night delivers her last soprano key and her song is
heard forever in the halls of nature's memory,
every brook and every creature in the forest slows its pace.
While the moon reflects the sun and mirrors its own light,
the small hands of time move forwards, ever so slowly.
The sky evolving into an orchestra of music,
shows us an endless parade of sailboats passing by,
they glide then disappear, far into the night
leading us ever closer to the blessed light.
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